


Alternative Teen Wolf Season 3A.2

by Klicesgirl16



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 87,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1749878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klicesgirl16/pseuds/Klicesgirl16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I should state first and foremost that I'm NOT caught up with 3B or season 4, so this is written to take place precisely after 3A and with no prior knowledge of what happens in 3B, so I would appreciate it immensely if no one posted spoilers. I have watched Teen Wolf up to and through 3A and had issues with certain arcs, and decided to remedy them as best as I can, and helping me to do so is the original character Gina Frae. I also want to try to grapple with some questions I've been having surrounding the show in general, like why a werewolf bite doesn't always translate to lycanthropy, how wolf ranks like Alpha, Beta, etc work like in 3A, and most importantly what the HELL happens with Peter and Deucalion??<br/>**Update: I am fully caught up now.<br/>Episode 1 is about everyone recuperating after the 3A finale with the darack. I suggest if you haven't seen 3A, you quit while you're ahead. I will post lots of references to that season and those previous. A new challenge is presented to our main four, one they have not had to deal with before despite it being deceptively simple. The problems all seem to surround the new girl they meet at a party who has strong ties to Isaac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am not trying to satisfy a particular fan pairing like Stydia or Sterric or Skittles. I'm only trying to write a season I think suits Jeff's style that could fit in well with the other seasons. I will include moments of each of those, but I'm trying to make it as convincingly vanilla as possible. In other words, I'm trying to write for Teen Wolf as a whole, not a particular fan service.  
> I hope I get Isaac's character's writing accurate, I find he's the most difficult character to write for. I feel like he's the most closed off, so bear with me as I try to get everyone through this plot. The plan is just 12 'episodes', that way I can finish writing before season 3B comes out on DVD and I can catch up.

Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Allison and Lydia are all at a friend’s house to celebrate finals being over. But for them, who just survived a massive storm and defeated a dark druid - a darack - who killed over nine people, it was time for some relaxation. Some well deserved ‘R and R’.  
But yet there was something they couldn't account for. Something didn't feel right. They couldn't make their way into the crowd and enjoy themselves as everyone else could. They instead stood in a group to themselves and stared into their cups. “It’s the darkness,” Stiles was the first to speak. “Deaton told us this would happen. He said we’d feel this.”  
“It’s not just that,” Allison shook her head. The sound of Lydia’s laugh was contagious and better yet, distinctive. She was probably halfway across the house when Allison heard her, and she didn’t even have super wolf hearing. “Lydia’s had it as bad as any of us, and she carries on pretty well.”  
“So why can’t we?” Scott finished for her.  
Everyone acknowledged the question in shared silence.  
“Isaac!” came a voice just peaking over the loud music. A girl with reddish brown hair made her way to the group. Isaac had heard her coming, but for the sake of faking normalcy - a facade on which he was improving - pretended to be pleasantly surprised to see her.  
“Hi, Gina” he said with a smile. “I didn't think you’d show up, what are you doing here?”  
“Getting out of the house for a change,” she shrugged, sloshing the liquid in her cup and nearly spilling. Isaac instinctively reached out and put a hand on the brim to stabilize it just above her hand. Realizing his mistake, he winced his fingers to try to cover up.  
Gina didn’t seem to notice, and if she had, she didn’t seem to mind. “I’m allowed to leave, aren’t I? Even my parents agreed that being in the house too long makes ya stir-crazy. My parents of all people! But personally I think it’s because they wanted the house to themselves for a night. Can’t blame ‘em. They get out even more seldom than I do.”  
“Not getting out somehow doesn’t surprise me coming from a girl who says ‘seldom’ in actual conversation," Stiles whispers over Scott’s shoulder.  
Allison gestured with her eyes to the two of them as if to ask ‘who the hell is she?’  
“Oh hey you guys, I hadn’t noticed you at first.” They all snapped to attention. It was Gina who spoke. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all in a while. Those finals were tough, huh?”  
They all nodded politely.  
“Weird not having Ms Blake around to administer her own test, you know? They said she was called home and said she wouldn’t come back. Kind of a shame, I really liked her. She had this...way about her. Made you really want to know more about the subject. She was definitely on top of the subject, like all the time.”  
“That’s for sure” Stiles said absent-mindedly.  
“Definitely” Scott added a bit too quickly.  
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Allison held out her hand. “Not formally, anyway.”  
“Gina,” Gina smiled broadly, taking it with her left hand instead and making the shake feel lopsided.  
“Oh, uh a lefty?” Allison tried.  
“Yeah. I’m just weird that way,” Gina grinned again. Isaac smirked too. “You know, in Biblical times all the way to the so called ‘Middle Ages’ if you were left-handed they thought you were possessed by the supernatural, so they either tied you up as a kid and forced you to use your right hand or they burned you at the stake.”  
Everyone was silent.  
“What advances we’ve made, huh!” she laughed nervously. “Actually Isaac, I should phone home. You know, to check in.”  
“Upstairs is a little quieter,” he suggested kindly. “You’d probably stand a better chance up there. Just avoid the bedrooms.”  
“Why?”  
“There are people...uh…’making out’ up there.”  
Gina stopped to listen and looked confused. “I don’t hear anything.”  
Scott realized that Isaac and he only knew that because of their hearing, so he jumped in. “We saw them go up there a while ago. Just use the bathroom?”  
Allison looked confused in both their directions.  
“Oh,” Gina turned a little pink. “Well, thanks. Maybe I’ll see you around?”  
“Sure,” Isaac gave a short nod as he watched her go up the stairs.  
“Who’s that?” Lydia bounced over, her hair perfectly falling over her bare shoulders. Stiles immediately straightened in her presence. Everyone turned subconsciously to Isaac. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Isaac” she grinned mischievously.  
“It’s not like that,” Isaac shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. “We’ve been friends for a long time, since my dad was alive. She was the only person then who knew.”  
Lydia nodded, having been shot down but determined not to let that phase her. “Why aren’t any of you at least trying to enjoy yourselves? Could you really make it anymore obvious you don’t want to be here?”  
“We kind of just stopped a mass murderer and let a psychopathic werewolf Alpha go” Stiles said flatly. “It’s kind of hard to just forget that happened.”  
“We almost lost our parents,” Allison added coolly.  
“I know,” Lydia spat. “I was there. And in case you losers forgot, I was nearly strangled. Like, to death. But look at me, I can get over myself at least for the night.”  
Everyone returned to a glum silence.  
“Well then,” Lydia knew a lost cause when she saw it. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be-”  
“Hooking up with Aiden?” Stiles said sarcastically with poorly repressed bitterness.  
“Finding a body?” Isaac said half-kiddingly.  
“Dancing!” Lydia corrected them. “Ugh! God, you guys. Sometimes I can’t stand being around you.” She sauntered off in her impossibly high electric blue pumps to go join some other people.  
“She’s right,” Allison threw out her untouched cup in a nearby garbage can. “No use in staying much longer if we’re not going to get anything out of it.”  
As if on cue, everyone else threw theirs out in the same can. “I’ll drive,” Stiles said.  
As they got in the car, Isaac stood outside with his phone in hand.  
“You coming, Isaac?” called Scott.  
“Just texting Gina. She’s not supposed to have car privileges this week, so I want to make sure she’s got a ride home.”  
“‘Car Privileges’?” Allison and Stiles mouthed to each other.  
Isaac climbed in and they all held their breath until his phone buzzed. “Let’s go.”  
***  
It was getting late. Gina hadn’t stayed out this late in a long time. Not since Isaac had needed a place to stay. 'God, was that awful'. She wished she could help him more, but he had refused to stay for very long. He wouldn’t tell her why he always left at night, came back either beaten up or bedraggled, but she knew. 'He had been under a lot of stress with his dad, and he didn’t want to look vulnerable'. Everyone dealt with grief differently. Gina just wished Isaac didn’t handle it by looking for fights. There were other ways of improving self-esteem than getting your ass handed to you.  
What really bothered her about Isaac is that he wasn’t one to talk, even when he needed to the most. She knew there was stuff he wasn’t telling her, and even though it killed her inside not to ask, she also knew that if he really wanted to tell her, he would make the initiative. It was waiting that sucked the hardest.  
Gina bid goodbye to the two friends she actually knew, since Isaac had left a couple of hours ago, and headed to the parking lot. At least her friend’s car was there. But where was she? Gina went back into the party and started calling for her friend. “Marcie!” “Marcie?”  
She had covered the entire first floor, back patio, front porch, kitchen, living room, dining room and foyer without finding Marcie. There were rhythmic bumps along the ceiling during the pauses between the music, and Gina groaned internally. She climbed the stairs and knocked on one of the doors timidly. “Marcie?” she asked at almost a whisper. There were moans audible over the muffled sounds of bass dropping from downstairs but they didn’t sound familiar. Not like the voice of Marcie, at least.  
Gina tried the next door. “Marcie?” There was silence behind the door. She cracked it open and saw the entangled form of some eight-legged creature under the sheets who yelled to close the door, so she did. “Beast with two backs? More like ‘Beast with Eight Legs” she muttered to herself. “Shakespeare had the euphemism thing down.” She knocked on the third door and heard someone cry out. She wasn’t sure if it was in pleasure or pain and panicked. She banged her fist on the door. “Marcie? Marcie!”  
There were hurried footsteps to the door and Marcie’s head poked out, flustered and beaded with sweat. “What?” she glared.  
“I wanted to go home, could you drive me soon?”  
“Uh,” Marcie looked behind her to the person in there with her. “Yeah. Gimme a minute.”  
“Okay,” Gina nodded. She stepped away from the door and looked awkwardly at her feet. The door swung open again.  
“Jeese, Gina don’t just wait right there! Go do...something. I’ll come find you.”  
“Okay,” Gina said even quieter, retreating to the staircase and plopping herself on the landing. _Maybe I should have taken up Isaac’s offer ___she thought.  
An hour passed and many of the people had left already. Gina texted Marcie instead, hoping for a better answer. The reply was even worse: 'Not in condition 2 drive. Staying the night. Yur welcome 2.'  
Gina went over her options before texting back 'I’ll be alright. Stay safe.'  
'We used condom. Its fine.'  
Gina sighed under her breath as she dumped her now-unnecessary sunglasses in her bag and left the house. If she cut through the woods, she’d be home in fifteen minutes. Not that she wanted to. After the storm and with all the killings she had no lack of fear for the place. But if she got home too late - it was probably ‘too late’ now - she’d never hear the end of it from Mom and Dad. She had to try it. The killer had been stopped, hadn’t they? The animals had been put down, right?  
Gina shrugged off her cowardice and made for the woods, thanking her past self for opting for sneakers.  
The woods were rather dark. There were lots of tripping hazards, including fallen trees and limbs, broken bushes and roots scattered all over the place. She kept her phone on so she could navigate her way via the light and held her keys in her fist the way they taught her at school. She tried to tread as lightly as possible, but the wind played tricks on her. She could have sworn she heard footsteps.  
Gina walked faster. The footsteps seemed to follow, and just as she was about to succumb to her paranoia, she had the wits about her to stop and regroup. She did stop, and there was the absence of sound except a few leaves rustling. She let out a shaky breath of relief.  
“What are you doing out so late?” came a voice just ahead of her. She shined the light right into the face of a tall, lean, white man with a chiseled jaw line. He put a hand over his eyes and grimaced at the brightness of her phone.  
“I’d ask you the same thing.”  
“I was asked to look out in case you came this way.”  
“Sure you were.” Gina held up her fist in fighting stance, making sure the keys jutted outward and hoping they’d be enough of a deterrent.  
“You’re a friend of Scott, aren’t you?” he asked in a silky English accent.  
Gina was silent. _I know better than to fuel a predator with personal information._  
“Mutual friend," he added elegantly, pointing towards himself. "I know they left some time ago, so I thought I’d do you a favor.”  
“You know in most States that’s extremely sketchy. Including this one.”  
“It’s also supremely annoying to shine a light in someone’s face. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.”  
As Gina lowered the light off his face, she saw as he removed his hands a flicker of reflection of his eyes. Something only her dog did. And the reflection was red. Something opened inside of her, a cavity that fear bled into like a breached submarine. Like a cold breath being breathed into the pit of her stomach. Her mind and body raced to control her body, whether to stay and trust this man or to run and escape him. She was a cross-country runner. She could probably do it.  
“No...no you can’t. Don’t even try.”  
“What?” Gina said testily.  
“Run.”  
She was silent. The cold breath within her grew colder and pressed upon all her organs. The time was now. She had to run.  
“Please don’t. It’ll only make things much worse.” The man sounded annoyed. “Much worse for you, and even worse for your friends.”  
“You don’t know anything about my friends.”  
“It’s funny you say that, because I could say the same to you. Just how much you think you know is laughable.”  
Gina picked her moment. She shined the light back up at the man’s eyes and took off in the direction she came. She saw everything in the clarity only adrenaline could deliver. She leaped over roots, ducked under branches, got swiped by bush twigs but ignored them as she made it as fast as three years of training could make her legs go.  
But it wasn’t enough.  
Something enormous crashed into her from behind, sending them flying down an embankment. She punched and kicked and swore as she fought this thing, but she couldn’t even land a blow properly. She realized with horror the thing had more hair on it than a person should. What’s worse is that it had very large teeth and snarled maliciously. It bit down onto her shoulder. Hard.  
“Get this mutt off me, you bastard!” she cried out in pain and defiance. It scratched and clawed at her, tearing through her pants and her shirt and leaving long, deep cuts and welts all over her. She had lost a shoe in the struggle. She cried out as loud as she could.  
***  
Some time between one and one-thirty in the morning, Isaac sat bolt upright. He ran across the hall of the McCall residence and saw Scott already putting shoes on. They had both heard it. “What was that?” Scott asked breathlessly, trying not to wake his mom.  
“I think I know, but I really hope I’m wrong,” Isaac sounded like he was going to be sick.  
They left the house and headed towards the woods. Their bloodhound senses kicked in, and they split up along the established trails through the safer parts of the woods. The going was difficult, the storm had obscured the markers and fallen limbs and trees scoured the paths, blocking them off completely in some spots.  
Not that this was any problem for a werewolf of course. Or two.  
“Scott!” “Scott, help!”  
Scott came running with claws extended in full wolf form to Isaac’s aid, ready to tackle anyone who would hurt his pack. He felt it now. He felt like an Alpha. His already instinctual need to protect his friends, his family, and anyone close to him had only grown more powerful, more overwhelming throughout his body and psyche, and it was as if his whole body was a bullet aimed through the barrel of a gun. Aimed straight at whatever was attacking Isaac.  
Isaac wasn’t in danger. But he was in pain. He knelt on his knees in the thin layer of leaf litter covering mud as he held something in his hands. He kept putting his ear to it and running a hand over it.  
Not a something, Scott realized. Someone.  
“Who is it?”  
“Gina.”  
“That girl from the party? What the hell happened?”  
“Someone…” Gina sputtered, coughing up red blood onto Isaac’s shirt. “Someone’s...dog. Bit me.”  
Scott and Isaac exchanged looks. The color drained from both their faces.  
“Where?” Isaac asked as he tried to handle her as gingerly as possible. His claws were out, and he was trying to hide them. His eyes glowed yellow with barely subdued rage.  
“We need to take her to Derek,” Scott said grimly, surveying the extent of the damage.  
“My...shoulder.” She made a gurgling noise as she tried to move, but Isaac prevented her from doing so.  
“Let me see it first, then we’ll move you.”  
“I need a doctor. I need a rabies shot. Police report. Sketch...artist.”  
 _At least she’s coherent __Scott thought. _Actually, surprisingly so. She looks worse than anyone else I’ve seen. This wasn’t Derek, at least there’s that. ____  
“I know,” Isaac’s voice trembled as he gently pulled away her ripped collar. There was a large, swollen bite mark on her right shoulder. The deepest impressions were from fangs, but the bite mark wasn’t ovular like a dog’s. It was semi-circular like a person’s. It confirmed their suspicions.  
“Isaac, we need to take her to Derek’s.”  
“No,” Gina said with surprising force. “I need a hospital. Take me there.”  
“We…” Isaac struggled for the words. “We can’t.”  
“I know I’m not in the best of shape,” she hissed, “but you’re the one being a real numbskull.”  
“Can you carry her?” Scott asked, sniffing about for whatever might still be around to finish the job.  
“Yeah. Hey,” Isaac whispered to Gina as he lifted her up. “Hey, we’re going to get you help, okay?”  
“You mean the hospital, like I asked you?”  
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re going to the hospital.”  
Despite Gina's coherency, they opted for speed. They ran at werewolf velocity to Derek’s new place where he and Cora were living. They lived alone, which significantly decreased the chances of living above or beneath an enemy werewolf pack. Peter was an infrequent resident, and he wasn’t there now. Cora came to the door and at first looked confused to see Scott but then her eyes widened in alarm when she was Isaac and Gina. Derek had them put her on the kitchen counter.  
“This isn’t the hospital,” Gina murmured in confusion as she faded in and out of consciousness.  
“I’m surprised she’s still awake,” Derek furrowed his brow. “For someone to take this kind of damage and still be conscious is pretty unusual.”  
“Is she going to...you know…?” Isaac asked delicately.  
“Die, or turn?” Cora said insensitively. “Is that what you mean?”  
Derek looked Gina over, ignoring her whimpers of pain. “I can’t be sure.”  
“We should wrap her up, shouldn’t we?” Scott asked. Without being asked, Cora went into the coffee table and pulled out three med-kits.  
 _Were Stiles here, he’d have something to say about that, ___Scott thought in a moment of distraction. “Speaking of whom…” he mumbled as he took out his phone from his pajama pocket. He frantically texted Stiles. 'Isaac’s friend from party bitten. Don’t know who. At Derek’s.'  
By the time Stiles got there, Gina was bandaged as well as they could manage and lying on the couch. Isaac was crouched beside her trying to keep her talking.  
“Jeese,” Stiles exhaled as he saw her in her blood-soaked clothes lying on the bed near delirium. He put a hand to his mouth. “Any suspects?” he squirmed, trying not to pass out or throw up.  
Derek joined them to form a circle, as did Cora behind him. “Not sure yet how many werewolves are still in the area.”  
“What about the tree? It being a beacon?” Scott asked. “What if it’s someone new? Something new?”  
“If it was, how would we even start?” asked Cora. “Looked like a werewolf bite to me. I think we’re just dealing with a werewolf.”  
“Wasn’t a Kanima, at least we can rule that out,” yawned Stiles. Everyone stared at him. “What?”  
“You seem pretty calm considering what it took to take down the last one” Derek growled.  
“I know you’re doing the whole ‘Children of the Moon’ thing, but for normal humans getting up in the middle of the night is not normal!”  
There was a pitiful whimper that came from the room. Everyone tensed up. “Is she going to...you know…?” Scott shuffled where he stood.  
“I don’t know,” Derek shook his head. “No black blood, but she's lost a lot. It’s surprising how long she’s lasted considering.”  
***  
“Isaac…”  
“I’m here, Gina.” Isaac clutched her hand in both of his as he knelt by her side.  
“Am I going to die?”  
His breath caught in his throat. He didn’t really have an answer to tell her. His silence spoke for itself.  
“This isn’t how I envisioned it,” she scrunched up her face trying to hold back tears. “I guess the majority of people say that though, don’t they?”  
“I’m not going to let you.” Isaac’s hand quivered.  
“Neither will I,” said Scott as he entered the room. He took Isaac’s place and held Gina’s hand firmly. He looked at Isaac as if for permission. Isaac gave the slightest nod. Scott grimaced intensely as he drew the pain from Gina as one would extract venom. It was almost unbearable, how she had managed to not scream was short of a miracle. Scott worried that the bite wouldn’t take. Transition was hard, but not like this. He remembered the night of his, and he would remember that pain for the rest of his life. But this was sharper, like hot acupuncture needles that were too big for their prick holes. Everywhere.  
“How...how are you doing that?”  
“It’s alright, Gina,” Isaac said. “He’s taking your pain away.”  
“I see that, numbskull,” she snorted weakly. “I’m asking how.”  
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Scott said behind clenched teeth.  
“My last few projects for Forensics had to do with serial killers, voodoo priests and the Placebo Effect. I might be about to die, and I'll be damned if I don't understand it. Try me.”  
Scott raised an eyebrow at Isaac.  
“She’s trying to be a ‘District Attorney’. She wants to know everything. Considering we just beat a darack, I’d say ‘whatever, go for it’.”  
“It’s weird, I know,” Gina exhaled, finally looking more peaceful. “That or be the President like my parents want. Can’t even deliver a public speech.” She seemed to start fading out of consciousness.  
“Gina,” Isaac called back. “Stay with us!”  
“You know what?”  
“What?”  
“I’ve decided I’m not going to die,” she smiled as her lids fell shut. “I’m just going to sleep right now. When I wake up...Scott’s going to tell me how he did that. I’ve got...questions...for you guys.”  
“You’re too stubborn to die,” Isaac tried to smile. “Is that it?”  
“Damn...straight…” She fell limp against the bed, turning pale and feverish, and her breathing came in shallow intervals. But for the most part she looked alive. If barely.  
Scott and Stiles decided to send texts to their friends and their parents, making up some bogus story about family issues with one of their friends. They decided to use Danny as their excuse. They did it before at the nightclub to cover up for pursuing Jackson on his homicidal rampage. They figured it’d catch again. Hopefully as well though, since now Scott’s mom and Stiles’ dad knew about what was going on. They just thought it’d be easier to take than ‘someone else was bitten we might have another wolf problem’.  
“Are you staying here, Isaac?”  
“Yeah. You go ahead.”  
“Tell us if she wakes up?”  
“Yeah.”  
Scott and Stiles exchanged a few words with Derek about the suspects.  
“We can’t be sure until she wakes up and tells us.”  
“If she wakes up,” Cora folded her arms.  
“You two are real ‘pillars of optimism’” Stiles rolled his eyes.  
Scott brought Stiles to the forest to investigate the scene better.  
They went through the brambles and the fallen debris to where they had found her. “It was here.”  
“Don’t you think we should ask Allison’s dad? He’s the hunter. He can read tracks like they were Blues Clues, I think he’s a bit more qualified.”  
“Tomorrow. I don’t want to freak out Allison. Right now I want answers.”  
“Allison’s going to freak out eventually when she finds out someone we met at a party coincidentally got bitten by a werewolf and may or may not become one herself. I think we should tell her now.”  
Scott grumbled as he got his phone out.  
Stiles saw the blood drops with the light on his phone. There was pooling in the spot where all the leaf litter had been flattened against the mud. There was an impression of a curled up person left behind. Stiles looked up the embankment and saw divots where someone had run. He saw footprints but couldn’t make them out except for one, which was just a bare foot.  
“Scott, wasn’t Gina missing a shoe?”  
“Why?”  
Stiles looked around fruitlessly. “Where is it?”  
They waited until they saw the headlights of the SUV they knew Mr. Argent drove. He wore a leather jacket over his pajamas, but he was heavily armed and wearing combat boots. “This better be good to have woken me up in the middle of the night.”  
“It’s actually 4, so that makes it the morning,” Stiles said absent-mindedly.  
Mr. Argent glared at him.  
“Shutting up.”  
”We found her here, Mr. Argent.”  
Mr Argent stooped over to mentally measure the depression where Gina had lay. “Where is she now?”  
“Derek’s. We couldn’t bring her to a hospital.”  
“When did you find her?”  
“About one thirty? Two?”  
Mr Argent looked at Scott. “You found her?”  
“Me and Isaac. Isaac’s still with her. He was actually the one who found her.”  
“How did you know to come here?”  
Scott gulped. “She screamed.”  
Mr Argent’s face didn’t change as he walked around the site.  
“There’s blood, there” Stiles pointed.  
“I can see that,” Mr Argent said somewhat tersely. “Did she have defensive wounds? Cuts on her hands, her face?”  
“She looked pretty bad,” Scott replied. “Cuts all over.”  
“She fought whoever did this, which would have helped if it wasn’t a werewolf that had regenerative capabilities.” He climbed up the embankment following the divots and touching all the broken branches. “She ran this way from over there.” He crouched low to the ground and used his flashlight to spot the footprints. “There is a bare footprint down there, but only shoe prints up here.”  
“She lost a shoe,” Stiles nodded. “We just can’t find it.”  
“Odd,” pondered Argent. “Werewolves don’t usually take trophies. That’s more of a serial killer thing. Arguably more animalistic than werewolves despite being technically human. Maybe he wants to keep her scent. Relive the scene.”  
“Serial killer werewolf. As if we didn’t have enough to worry about already,” Stiles sighed with his hands on his face. “Though I guess it’s not really something we haven’t already seen. Is it weird that that’s become totally normal now?”  
“Ah,” Mr Argent found something. The boys approached him and he held something nearly invisible in his hand.  
“What is it?”  
“Hairs. What color is Gina’s hair, and how long is it?”  
“Sort of reddish, shoulder-length?”  
“That means this is from our attacker.”  
***  
Gina stayed unconscious well into the morning. Isaac refused when Cora offered coffee and Derek asked to take over. Derek did come over and lift her lids to see if her eyes had changed, which they hadn’t. He looked at her nails, which were filthy and chipped but unchanged. He even checked her bare foot for signs of claws, but she appeared for all intents and purposes normal. They did remove some of her bandages and discovered that sure enough, her wounds were starting to heal. It was slow for a wolf, but fast enough to be visible.  
“Isaac,” Derek said, standing on the other side of the bed. “Lift her upper lip. I need to check for fangs.”  
Isaac slowly poked her mouth where the lips parted and started to slowly move up her lip. “Lift up the sides,” Derek said annoyed.  
Isaac ran his finger over to the side and pushed back, catching a glimpse of an elongated tooth when suddenly Gina sat bolt upright. Everyone in the room gave a start. She clutched the ends of the bed and snarled, curling her lip back and revealing what they had been waiting for. She had long canines on both jaws, and her claws punctured the bed linens. But what concerned them the most was her eyes. Her glowing red eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Episode 1 detailed the groundwork for Gina's character and presenting the question of how rank is usually established by bite, Episode 2 sets Gina's place in Isaac's world, the aftermath of her new character trait, and how everyone responds to it. I also wanted the police to play more of a role in it to show Gina's willingness to join them some day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It bears to mentioned that the large chunk in the beginning is a flashback. In its original format it was in italics, but I had to just wing it since I'm new to the site. Maybe I'll go back and change it.

_A much younger Isaac stands on the porch in heavy drizzle as Gina opens the door. No words pass between them. The black eye and cut lip speak for themselves, emphasized further by the wet hair plastered to the edges of Isaac’s skull. She lets him inside. She sits him down in her room while she gets the med kit from the cupboard below the sink. She administers the bandages very carefully and has Isaac press a bag of ice to his eye.  
They haven’t spoken yet. Gina knows what happened. It’s literally written on his face. But she knows he will only talk about it when he’s ready. She thinks with sickening coldness that he only hesitates because his dad calls him weak if he doesn’t.  
“How much does it hurt? Do you want me to find some tylenol?”  
Isaac shrugs.  
“You don’t have to pretend like it’s nothing, you’re obscuring half your face with an ice pack.”  
“I’ve had much worse. It really isn’t a big deal.”  
Gina grumbles. 'There’s no use telling Isaac what he already knows, and telling him what I've already told him a hundred times isn’t going to make him listen.' “Do you want to watch TV? We can avoid my parents if it’s on low.”  
“Sure,” Isaac sighs, accepting the awful transition. He often takes for granted how understanding Gina is, but while he doesn’t want to disappoint her he knows that the more he involves her, the worse it becomes at home - the worse his dad treats him, surely - but when his dad berated Gina in front of him...that was the worst. Gina somehow needed to be dissuaded from ever going there again, as if she didn’t get the message. ‘It’s not that she doesn’t get it though,’ Isaac thought, ‘it’s because she does. She gets it perfectly.’  
Gina was thinking about that night too. She wanted Isaac to help her with her history and came over. It started with an innocent enough comment. His dad had asked if they were going out. Gina was caught off-guard, what a terribly poignant question made worse by its detestable asker! Isaac dismissed it, his dad pursued it. It didn’t take long before it became an opportunity for Isaac’s dad to call him spineless and to just ‘go for it’ and that Gina was ‘perfectly willing’ if he’d just ‘grow a pair’.  
Perfect words that Gina had been holding precious herself were now poisoned and sullied by being spoken of by Mr. Lahey. A full argument blossomed, and Gina had had enough when Mr. Lahey threw a glass at Isaac and barely missed. She stood directly in front of Isaac as if to shield him and told his dad off. She gave him the piece of her mind she had been cultivating since she had found out. She unleashed all the vile, cruel things she had been bottling inside for months. And it shocked him. It shocked them both. Mr. Lahey paused. Gina, in her naivete, believed for a full second that he was absorbing her words. But in reality he was just formulating the right rebuttal.  
Which came in the form of a hard slap across her face.  
Isaac had to practically carry her out of the house as she screamed and cursed and spat at Mr. Lahey, who just sneered in gloating triumph as Isaac brought her outside, secure in his victory. Isaac then argued with her for a full ten minutes, telling her to stay out of it, that it wasn’t worth involving her, that she didn’t deserve to get involved. Gina had pushed for calling the police. Isaac pleaded with her not to, and finally she was moved into soft, heaving sobs. ___

 

Gina’s senses were quick to pick up Isaac and Derek both throwing themselves to pin her to the bed. She clenched all the muscles in her shoulders and arms and hurled them off with frightening ease. Derek and Isaac exchanged a glance of shock and confusion, which gave Gina an excuse to rise to her feet. Perceiving danger, she let loose a menacing growl saturated with challenge.  
“...Gina?” Isaac called out to her, holding out a hand as one would to an unfamiliar dog. She looked in his direction, eyes red as blood and smoldering with intimidation. His Gina, his best friend, the girl who could barely speak up for herself was looking at him like one would a sorry piece of meat. Like he was beneath her. He edged his hand closer.  
“Isaac, stop!” Derek held out his, grabbing Gina’s attention. His voice wavered in uncertainty. “Gina’s gone wolf now, she could seriously hurt you. Even kill you. Step away. Slowly.” It was the uncertainty that caught Gina’s ears. She braced, choosing her target. She had chosen the one she had deemed the weakest.  
Cora wasted no time, however. While the boys were briefing on strategy, she leaped onto the bed and toppled Gina onto the covers, holding her wrists down firmly and snarling in her face.  
Gina replied with a full roar and kicked Cora off her with both legs, sending her flying across the room into the wall. On instinct, she whirled up onto all fours and was ready to pounce on Cora, perceiving her as a threat when Isaac and Derek both jumped her, pulling her to the floor. They had assumed full wolf forms, ready for the attack.  
“Gina, it’s Isaac! It’s me,” Isaac whined. “It’s your best friend, you numbskull.”  
“...Isaac?” It visibly dawned on Gina what was going on. She blinked as she stared full in the face of two werewolves who curled their lips to bare their teeth just inches from her face. Terror overcame self-preservation and her eyes changed back to hazel, her teeth receded and her claws went away. “Is that...you?”  
“I could ask you the same question,” he gave a weak laugh. He pulled back his wolf features and Derek did the same. Reluctantly.  
Cora was the least convinced and Derek placed himself between the two girls while Isaac tried to re-evaluate the situation.  
Gina was remembering the exchange quite differently. “What...happened? No, I remember what happened, nevermind. Dumb question. But what happened...to me? Why is everyone in full attack mode? Why is there so much hair on his face?” With the last question she gestured to Derek and his gratuitous sideburns.  
“You weren’t bitten by a dog,” Derek explained. “You were bitten by a werewolf.”  
It surprised everyone when it was Gina who looked incredulous. “You’re joking.”  
“You threw me into a wall!” Cora spat, rubbing the back of her head as she stood directly opposite Gina, who shrank.  
“It’s weird, because I remember doing that, but it didn’t feel like...me. It felt like someone else was doing it. It was reactionary, but at the same time not?”  
“What brought you out of it?” Derek crossed his arms, contemplating.  
“Isaac,” she replied, looking meaningfully at the party in question. Isaac blushed and glanced away.  
“It makes sense,” Derek nodded. “He’s the one person here she knows. There’s a connection. You’re what grounded her, like Allison with Scott.”  
Isaac’s ears reddened and his face burned.  
Gina sat dazed, taking it all in. She seemed to do so fairly readily for someone whose entire life had swung in an entirely different direction. “So if I’m a werewolf now,” Gina had trouble forming the word ‘werewolf’ despite displaying prowess with its accompanying abilities, “...does this make me one of you?”  
“You are _not_ one of us,” Cora said flatly.  
“I’m sorry for hitting you.” Old Gina was back as she shrank against Cora. Her voice strained into a whisper. “I didn’t mean to.”  
“It’s not just that,” said Derek. “You’re an Alpha.”  
Gina thought about it and furrowed her brow thinking it through, but still came up empty. "Alpha? That's what I am?"  
Derek elaborated. “Our pack, group of werewolves, has one Alpha. One leader. You can’t have two Alphas in one pack.”  
Gina opened her mouth to protest, but thought against it. “I don’t even understand how to be a werewolf, let alone lead. I’d be no threat to your leadership, believe me. I'm no 'top dog'.”  
“Wrong. As an Alpha, you **are** 'top dog'. You’re already too dangerous to be in our pack,” Cora folded her arms. “You’d be a liability. You won’t feel obligated to take orders. You’d compete for the top spot whether you realize it or not. It’s your nature.”  
“If you actually knew me, you’d know I couldn’t possibly openly oppose authority,” Gina hissed. “You’re just making assumptions, and I don’t appreciate it.”  
“Don’t you get it?” Cora growled. “As an Alpha, you could give orders and we would have to take them no matter how dangerous, suicidal or detrimental they were. If you told Isaac to jump off a cliff, you are an Alpha and he is a Beta. He would have no choice but to obey.”  
All the color faded from Gina’s face. She gripped Isaac’s sweaty palm with her soft and clawless hand. “So what do I do?”  
“You can’t stay here,” Derek shook his head. “We don’t know who bit you or why. It’s a hazard to the pack until we do. Until we can trust you.”  
“So you’re saying you can’t trust me until you know who’s responsible? As if my word doesn’t matter? There are some serious feminist points in there-”  
“No, it doesn’t matter!” Cora exclaimed. Gina was visibly crushed. “Who bit you could determine whether or not this pack is a target or not. What you say no longer matters to how you act as an Alpha. Under a full moon, nothing about you will get in the way of whatever your instincts tell you.”  
“Fine,” she said in barely more than a whisper. “I’ll just go home and try to forget this happened.”  
It was Isaac’s turn to be outraged. “You’re seriously just going to tell a newly formed werewolf that she isn’t allowed anywhere near here, the safest possible place? You taught Scott when he turned! He was bitten by an Alpha!”  
“That was different,” Derek rolled his eyes. “Scott was a Beta. He could take suggestions. If you tell her something she can just refuse it, then tell you off and you’d have to listen. Where would she be then?”  
“So you’re just going to let her go into the world, not just a new werewolf with no understanding of what she’s now able to do, but a new Alpha? In town? You can’t be serious!”  
“Isaac-” Gina put a hand on his shoulder.  
“No Gina, it’s not okay,” Isaac hissed. “I’ll help you. Even if I have to do it myself. I’ll take you back.”  
Isaac stormed out with Gina trailing meekly behind, taking careful steps. She was barefoot, holding her only shoe and two socks. As they got in the car, she went through her pockets and groaned.  
“What?”  
“My phone’s missing. I must have dropped it.”  
When they got to Gina’s house, she took in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to go in there, Isaac. I don’t want to hurt my family. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I can’t just go back to the way things used to be, but I can’t tell them the truth.”  
“I’ll go in with you.” Isaac took her hand. “Come on.”  
The walk was only fifteen steps from the driveway, Gina had counted, but it felt like a small eternity. Gina had also lost possession of her keys, so she was forced to knock on her own door. It flew open to reveal her mother, hair splayed out like a bad wig and eyes red-rimmed with worry. She cried out as she flung herself at her daughter. “Michael! Michael!”  
Her dad rushed over and pulled everyone inside. Isaac followed dutifully behind. Gina was subject to her mother’s sobs and her dad’s worried ramblings about things that didn’t make sense. When they finally let their daughter come up for air, they drew her attention to a police officer seated at the table.  
“Mr. Stilinski?” Isaac asked confused.  
“Isaac?” Officer Stilinski said, taken aback. “What are you doing here?”  
“I drove Gina back.”  
“We were so worried about you!” her mom gave an outburst. Gina’s dad continued. The dog came barking and yipping to the door.  
“You didn’t come home, you weren’t answering your messages, and then when you did they were strange.”  
“I’m sorry,” Gina was tearing up.  
“Duncan! It’s Gina! It’s your Gina!” her dad scolded the dog. “Calm down.” The dog kept barking impatiently at the family gathered together.  
“I just had a really bad night, and everything just went wrong and I tried to come home, but-”  
“What kind of ‘strange’?” Isaac interrupted. “Gina, didn’t you just say you lost your phone last night?”  
Gina absent-mindedly rechecked her pockets. “Oh...yeah.”  
“Then you didn’t send those texts, did you?”  
“No.”  
“That makes sense,” Gina’s dad replied, pulling up his own phone. “Because we thought this wasn’t like you.” He gave the screen over and they both looked. Isaac kept his fear in check while Gina looked confused. The text read: 'I have big plans for the next few weeks. Don’t even try to stop me. The game begins.' It sat like a stone in Isaac’s consciousness.  
“Would you like to report it stolen?” asked Officer Stilinski.  
“Yes,” Gina nodded. “It bears to be mentioned that I also have the “Find my iPhone” app on it, so it should be easily traced if you go through my Apple account.”  
“I guess it’s good that our money goes towards something,” her dad mumbled.  
“I know, dad.”  
“Did you lose anything else at this party?” her mom folded her arms with a frown.  
“I lost my keys and one of my shoes,” Gina tried to make herself as small as possible. Duncan was still barking. “Duncan!” Gina said sternly in an Alpha voice. The dog tucked its tail under its legs and backed away slowly. “Duncan…it’s me.” Isaac felt a pang for her as she looked after her dog running away with hurt and confusion marked all across her face.  
“Do you know how much it’s going to cost to change the locks on the whole house?” her father scolded. “One wild night of carelessness and this is what happens. Did we not tell you this would end badly?”  
“That Marcie friend of yours is trouble, and you knew it. We told you this already, Gina.”  
“It had nothing to do with Marcie-” but Gina was drowned out.  
“You’re well on your way to doing big things Gina, but this is more tabloids than Senate!”  
“I didn’t mean-”  
“I hope this party was worth it,” her dad barked.  
“She was attacked,” Isaac interrupted coldly. “On her way home. She dropped them when she was getting away.” He looked at her pointedly.  
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I had to stay at a friend’s house, and I couldn’t tell you because I dropped my phone.”  
Her parents took on a different air then. It was back to being protective and thankful that their daughter returned and even extended heartfelt thanks to Isaac. Mr. Stilinski had an ‘are you kidding me with these people’ look on his face as he shifted their attention to some paperwork. “You were assaulted then? Last night?”  
“Yes.”  
“During which your phone, keys and shoe went missing?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Scott and I tried to find them, but they were gone,” Isaac added.  
Ignoring the question Isaac knew was burning in Stiles’ dad’s mind, Officer Stilinski continued with the investigation at hand. “So they were definitely stolen?”  
“Yes,” Isaac and Gina both said simultaneously.  
“We’ll make sure to look into it,” Mr. Stilinski shook her parents’ hands. He inquired about Gina’s Apple information and told them if they found any new developments, that they’d keep in touch.  
“Don’t worry, honey,” Mr. Frae said. “We’ll take care of the house. But you have to get a job to help pay for the new phone, you know the terms of our contract. You gotta-”  
“‘Get things to happen, you make things happen,” Gina recited. “I know.”  
Isaac spoke to her parents and answered their questions as Gina sat down for the sketch artist. The artist was originally there, so far as Isaac could tell, to help make missing posters for Gina. If he didn't already know her parents, this would be weird to him.  
“I’ll need to talk to you later,” Officer Stilinski said in a low whisper as he saw his way out.  
***  
Everyone met back up at school. Scott had begrudgingly told Allison what had happened because she came asking questions about where her dad was last night. Stiles told Lydia and asked if she had seen anything. The twins were now permanent students at the school, and Scott decided to ask them if they knew anything. They were immediate suspects at first, but he could tell neither was lying when Aiden and Ethan said they had no idea what had gone on. They took a look at Isaac, who had been awake for the past forty-eight hours and pitied him.  
“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Lydia said in passing on their way to class. “He definitely likes her.”  
“Is that at all appropriate to say considering the circumstances?” Allison asked. “I mean, he just found out his friend is a werewolf after thinking she was going to die...and that she’s an Alpha. He’s pretty stressed out.”  
“And for a second she could have killed him,” Stiles added.  
“The point still stands,” Lydia tossed her hair proudly.  
“Is it even possible to be bitten and become an Alpha like that?”  
“No Allison, it’s not,” Ethan replied.  
“Not that we know of, anyway,” Aiden replied.  
“Something else is up,” said Scott. “There’s some part of the picture we don’t have.”  
“Besides who did it?” asked Stiles.  
“It’s not just a ‘who’ but a ‘what’" Scott replied. "I was bitten by an Alpha and I’m not an Alpha - well, not then at least. I became one. She just...started that way. That takes something else.”  
“She isn’t even in school today,” Allison noticed as they sat down in class and spied an empty seat. "As an aspiring Valedictorian, that's beyond unusual."  
“I imagine when you discover you’re a previously thought mythical creature that can unknowingly rip your friends apart, it takes a toll on the psyche,” Stiles chimed in.  
“It gets worse,” Isaac whispered. “I asked Derek for help, and he refused. So far as he’s concerned, Gina’s on her own and the next full moon is not that far away.”  
“You can’t blame him,” Scott sighed. “He’s already lost Erica and Boyd to Alphas. He’s not even the Alpha of his pack anymore, he gave it up to save Cora.”  
“So what, does that make _Peter_ the Alpha now?” Isaac asked.  
“I’m not sure if I like that.”  
“None of us do.”  
“What if he did it?”  
Everyone turned to Allison. “Peter was the one who turned Scott, and Scott’s a true Alpha. Why can’t he just turn someone into a full-blown Alpha?”  
“According to Derek it sounded particularly unusual, like he’d never seen it before,” Isaac recounted. “I think we need to look more into this. Not just Peter, but at everything.”  
Isaac told them about the text Gina’s parents received from her phone after she had lost it. But before any of them were able to ponder it, the bell rang. Class started, so they had to focus on academics the rest of the day while they pondered the fate of their friend. They all asked to hear the results from Isaac after his attempt at helping Gina after school.  
***  
Isaac knocked on the door of the Frae household. Gina’s mom was the one to answer, which surprised Isaac. Gina’s mother was a corporate lawyer and was usually at work now. “Hi, Mrs Frae.”  
“Isaac,” she gave a smirk, “how many times do I have to tell you to call me Molly? You’re more a part of this family than _Duncan_! Come in.”  
Isaac stepped in and closed the door behind him. The ‘house smell’ that he had been so used to was very different now that he was a wolf. He and Gina always talked about people’s homes having a distinctive, collective smell to them, but with his heightened senses Isaac could tell them apart. They had eaten leftovers of Chinese food the previous night while waiting for Gina to come home; lo mein and teriyaki steak to be precise. The kitchen had a sort of metallic microwave-y fakeness to it. From the bathroom wafted the fainter scent of household cleaners. From the bedroom downstairs he smelled fabric softener and detergent. He wondered if Gina could smell it now too.  
“Yes,” said Gina’s mom, stirring Isaac from his musings.  
“What?”  
“Gina’s doing okay. She hasn’t left her room much, but she’s a trooper. She’ll be back to school by tomorrow.”  
 _I wonder if she knows that yet, __thought Isaac grimly. _It’s not that her parents want her to suffer though, they just want to see her through it. They want to see her bounce back. __  
As if reading his mind a second time, Molly Frae asked another unintentionally poignant question. “Do you think she’s ready for that?”  
“I don’t know. She was pretty…” _Bloodthirsty? Out of control? Wolfish? __Isaac recalled watching in astonishment as Gina flung Cora across the room, baring her teeth and claws in attack mode “...shaken.”  
“Michael just thinks that being around her friends will help her the most, and I can’t help but agree. I think having such a close network of friends, what with all of you is really going to keep her sane until we get to the bottom of this.”  
 _And hopefully she won’t murder anyone until then. __  
“She’s upstairs if you’re wondering. Can I get you anything?”  
“No thank you. Can I take anything up to her?”  
“If she asks for it. I haven’t been able to get her to eat anything all day. I hope she comes down eventually.”  
Isaac took the eleven stairs and sharp right to get to Gina’s room. The door was fastened shut. He knocked. “Gina?”  
“You can’t come in.”  
“Why not?”  
There was a pause. “Is it just you, Isaac?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I closed the door too hard.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“My parents asked me too many questions and I panicked and I think I went...you know...and gripped the handle too hard.”  
“Did you,” Isaac lowered his voice in case her mom was listening. “Did you break off the handle?”  
“No, but it wasn’t that shape before and now I can’t turn it. I haven’t left my room all day because I was afraid someone would notice.”  
Isaac scratched his head. “I’ll get it open.”  
“How?”  
“With a little ‘wolf strength’ of my own. Stand back.”  
“Isaac, please don’t hurt yourself!”  
Isaac heaved with his shoulder, focusing on the anger he had harbored towards his father. The feeling he knew cemented him in the wolf state that controlled and formed the center of his powers. The hearing, the seeing, the claws, and the strength all focused on this one point the size of the end of a pencil. The approximate size and location of the door handle. He was able to open the door, but a few chips of wood went flying from where part of the lock used to be.  
They heard a call from downstairs.  
“Everything’s fine, mom! The door got jammed again!” Gina called nervously. They looked at each other, looked at the knob on Gina’s side of the door, misshapen and completely crumpled like a tin can, and then back at each other. They erupted in stifled giggles as Gina gently closed the door as best she could. It kept opening slightly, so she stuck her trash can in front of it.  
“How’ve you been? You know, feeling?”  
“I’m doing okay,” Gina nodded. “Not great, but okay. I’ve been doing a lot of research today on this whole ‘lycanthropy’ thing to see if I could get any better understanding of it. ‘If you know your enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles’ is the appropriate quote. 'The Art of War' by Sun Tzu.”  
“Where’s Duncan?”  
“Avoiding me like the plague,” Gina skulked. “Is it because I’m part dog now?”  
“Yeah, probably. Imagine being Scott when he figured that out.”  
“Oh right, the vet’s office.”  
“Ask away.”  
Gina pulled out a notebook and a pen. She turned to the right page. As she situated herself, Isaac noticed there was a new thing posted to her bulletin board she kept on the wall. It was an ad for a job at the high school for the Rowing team to be their coxswain.  
“What’s that?”  
Gina turned to find the object of observation and blushed heavily. “Just a stupid idea I had this morning. Let’s get started?”  
“Sure.”  
“Are werewolves affected by moon phases or is it more like that stupid bull from Twilight?”  
“Yes.”  
Gina made a note in her pad with surprising detachment. “Which?”  
“Both. You can’t help but turn during certain moon phases, but you can trigger changes outside of the lunar cycle.”  
“Next question: are werewolves allergic to silver?”  
“No. That’s actually a miscommunication over the Argent family being werewolf hunters.”  
Gina nearly dropped her pen. “Allison’s family…?”  
“Helped us take down some pretty crazy characters the past couple years,” Isaac shook his head. “To make a long story short, the Argents now are pretty much dead or on our side. Next question.”  
“So I don’t have to avoid half my earring collection for fear of spontaneous combustion. I guess that’s a plus. Are werewolves sensitive to certain plants, like wolfsbane?”  
“Yes. Allergic to it, actually. That and mistletoe.”  
“Mistletoe?” Gina marked her paper with a different color pen.  
“Ask Deaton.”  
“...the veterinarian?”  
“Yeah. He’s kind of what we call an ‘emissary’ between all these supernatural things.”  
Gina paused, then tossed her notebook behind her onto the bed. “Tell me what the hell’s been going on in this town and why everyone’s treating me like I’m some sort of freak. Despite being on the outside of it until now, from where I stand I’m as normal as any one of you wolves. Scott, you, Derek, that crazy bitch he hangs out with…”  
“Cora, his sister.”  
“Whatever.”  
Isaac took a deep breath. “Scott was bitten by Peter, who’s Derek’s - the guy whose house you were at last night - his uncle. Peter is an Alpha. Derek got Scott to help him kill Peter in an attempt to -”  
“Peter was killed?”  
“Yes.”  
“As in he died?”  
“Yes.”  
“But you’re using past tense?”  
“He’s not dead now. Not anymore.”  
“...WHAT?!”  
“I’ll get to that. Peter came back because he bit Lydia and had some kind of hold over her and made her perform some ritual to bring him back.”  
“So he bit Scott and he turned into a wolf, a Beta I think?”  
“Yes.”  
 _I wonder if being turned enhances her memory as well as her senses __, Isaac thought. _'We mentioned that once.' __“and then he bit Lydia but she’s not a wolf?”  
“We’re not entirely sure what she is, but pretty much.”  
“If she’s not a wolf what is she, a fairy?”  
“We’ve been told Banshee.”  
Gina just stared at him with eyes narrowed.  
“Anyway,” Isaac continued, “Jackson got involved because he wanted to out-compete Scott on the lacrosse field, asked Derek to bite him, but he turned into this scaly monster called a Kanima.”  
“So Jackson didn’t turn wolf from a bite either?”  
“No.”  
“Is Derek just bad at biting people?”  
Isaac chuckled. “He didn’t do such a bad job with me.”  
“He bit _you? __”  
“Yeah, and Erica and Boyd…” Isaac trailed off, holding back the painful memories of seeing them die slowly in the bank. Watching Derek be forced to impale Boyd on his own claws, killing him against his will.  
“What happened to them?”  
Isaac shook his head.  
“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought maybe they ran away. Their missing posters are still at school. No wonder Derek doesn’t like me.”  
 _She’s quicker than I give her credit for, __he thought brightly.  
“What happened with the Kanima?”  
“The kanima by nature is something that needs a master. It lives to serve. It attached to this guy Matt.”  
“That creepy photographer kid who hovered over Allison?”  
“Yeah. He had been nearly drowned a year ago or so and wanted revenge, so he told Jackson to kill the people involved.”  
“But Jackson survived! He’s in England now, isn’t he?”  
“Yeah, but he’s a werewolf now. He’s not a kanima anymore.”  
“Huh?”  
“We converted him to be a wolf because wolves go in packs, and Jackson was kind of a loner, so he sort of turned into something else first, but then we showed him we would fight for him and he sort of changed. It was weird.”  
“So what happened with our English teacher? Was she involved? Because given all this new information, I'm pretty sure I can call 'bullshit' on this 'had to go home' business.”  
“Turns out she was once a druid that went evil because the wolf pack she was helping turned on her and nearly killed her, so she was sacrificing people in order to get enough power to kill them. That’s when we met this pack of Alphas that caused Derek and us so much trouble.”  
“So all the animal killings and murders were from all this?”  
“Essentially. It’s been one big cover-up after another.”  
“I figured something was up.”  
“You know Ethan and Aiden, those blonde twins from school?”  
“Yeah, the cute ones” Gina smirked to herself.  
“Well they were part of the Alpha pack” Isaac grumbled. “They helped kill people. Including our own. From Derek’s pack. They wanted to recruit Derek by making him kill his own.”  
“How does a pack of Alphas even work?” Gina asked. “According to Derek even two was too many.”  
“Well they were all Alphas, but they answered to this guy named Deucalion, who was kind of an Alpha of Alphas. Together we faced Ms Blake, who was the dark druid killing everyone and we beat her.”  
“So you sided with the guy who killed part of your pack to fight Ms. Blake?”  
“It’s not like we wanted to,” Isaac protested. “We had no choice. We couldn’t stop her on our own. In the end though, we got Deucalion his sight back since he was blind and in payment of that he said he’d leave. He kind of lost his power I guess, because Ethan and Aiden decided to be part of Scott’s pack, and his other Alphas were killed. That’s kind of where we are now.”  
Gina sat in silence nodding, trying to absorb everything. “So what next?”  
“We train. The full moon is in less than four weeks and you need to be prepared.”  
“So during the full moon I’m going to go ballistic and be out of control, maybe even killing people?” She flipped through her notes and then leaned back in her chair to check her calendar.  
“Yeah,” Isaac said guarded, biting his lip. “But we all went through it. We all survived. It gets easier each moon cycle.”  
“Well then I’ll have extra practice,” Gina said sarcastically, “because this month is a blue moon month.” She tapped the day with a little white circle in the corner that signified a full moon.  
“What’s that?”  
“Two full moons in one month. Doesn’t happen often, hence the expression. The next moon isn’t in four weeks, it’s in less than two. Maybe you should have left me in here after all.”  
“You would have broken that door down or escaped through the window. You’d need more to keep you tied down than a broken lock. But we’ll get to that later. For now, let’s just try the basics. I’ll take you through like Derek taught me. First we start with what triggers you. What makes you go wolf, and pinning it down to specifics.”  
“When I did it last time, er, the first time I guess, I was just scared. Someone was putting their finger in my mouth and I didn’t remember where I was and suddenly all these people looked scary and were ready to attack me.”  
“I mean, it was because you just went wolf and we realized you were stronger than any of us. We got pretty scared.”  
“I’m...stronger?”  
“It’s part of being an Alpha. You get a couple new abilities too, but for the most part your powers are like ours. Just a little stronger.”  
“Can I do the thing Scott did where I suck out the pain with my hand?”  
“Yes. But that takes some training. You could suck out too much and kill yourself by accident.”  
“Oh.”  
“I can’t teach you that, I can’t do it.”  
Isaac noted all of the breakable things in the room, which for a werewolf was everything. “We might want to continue this somewhere less...conspicuous.”  
“With fewer broken doors,” Gina snickered. "I'll go to Home Depot later and get another knob. We took shop, right?"  
Isaac brought her downstairs and said they were going to go into the woods in the backyard. Gina’s property was at the end of the block of suburban developments and thus lived on the edge of the treeline. It was rather convenient for their task at hand, though Gina was hesitant to enter. This treeline was her original destination when she tried to cross the park, so it formed the border of the place where she had been bitten.  
“I’ve got wolf senses, I’d know if someone was coming before you’d ever know,” Isaac tried to comfort her, but fumbled. "I mean, we, so do you. So I guess you'd sense it too, but...nevermind. Besides, this is the only convenient place where we can really test this out so your mom doesn’t walk in and see you going wolf.”  
He took her to a clearing with no underbrush. What deer there were nibbling on it were long gone. Their scent had faded to next-to-nothing. _Good. __  
“Take in deep breaths,” he instructed. “Try to leave yourself. Expand your awareness beyond just your own body. What do you hear?”  
Gina followed dutifully, pulling the muscles on her temples taught and making her ears pull back. “I hear birds.”  
“What else?”  
“You talking over me.”  
Isaac facepalmed. “Seriously.”  
“I hear someone’s lawn mower.”  
Isaac could pinpoint the noise as well. It was coming from the second block over from Gina’s.  
“I hear a plane going overhead.”  
“Good.”  
“I hear someone’s dog barking.”  
“Where?” Isaac asked, suddenly unable to hear what Gina could hear. He thought she was making it up, so he tested her.  
She tilted her head this way and that and then pointed into the woods. “It’s okay, his owner’s yelling at him over a squirrel.”  
“You can hear their conversation?”  
“Just that one part. They’re walking away now. Oh, that’s her phone.”  
A split second later Isaac heard the very faint tinny sound of an obnoxious stock ringtone. His guess was that it was almost a mile away.  
“Your senses are heightened,” _Clearly __he thought with a twinge of jealousy. “So let’s try a trigger. I want you to brace yourself. This might...get a little ugly. Just try not to kill me, okay?”  
“I don’t think I could ever do that,” she shook her head resolutely.  
“With the full moon out, it might not be up to you.”  
“I’ll control it,” she set her teeth. “I would never...kill someone. I won’t.”  
“I guess we’ll see. Anger usually works for Scott and me. Think of something that makes you angry, and not like the casual ‘wow, you’re an asshole’ anger. I mean the ‘I will freaking punch you in the face’ anger. The kind that would spur you into-”  
“Punching someone in the face?”  
“Sure.”  
Gina closed her eyes and wrinkled her forehead.  
“Tell me what it is so I can leap out of the way.”  
“My parents telling me I’m not strong enough. that I need to ‘toughen up’, ‘grow a thicker skin’, ‘get a backbone.” She was drawing her air in faster and much harder. “Telling me that anything that isn’t academic is a waste of time, that my friends are a bad influence! That I can watch someone be abused by their dad and do nothing about it!” Her teeth popped out like Wolverine’s claws from X-men. Her claws came unsheathed. She held her eyes closed tightly.  
“Okay!” Isaac called cautiously, readying himself just in case. “You’re doing it. You’re there. You can stop now.”  
Gina opened her eyes, which were vibrantly and almost offensively red. They glowered in their sockets and focused naturally on Isaac, the only other speaker in the area. For a full second, Isaac was afraid. He saw Gina staring back at him charged with all that anger, and surging with power. The kind of unbridled power that only comes with lack of learned restraint. It occurred to Isaac for the first time that Gina could physically end his life, whether she realized what she was doing or not. That was the scariest thought of all. That she could do it without thinking about it. No one knew where he was. He hadn't told anyone who could help him in case it went wrong. He hadn't anticipated that it would or even could.  
“I’m doing it?” she asked in a voice that had shed its uncertainty. She wasn’t asking, she was telling.  
“Yes.”  
Gina slowly brought up her hands and gave a small start when she spotted her own claws. “Those are new.” Her gaze went from challenging to distracted, and Isaac allowed himself time to breathe.  
“They come with the basic package,” he said as he unsheathed his. “As do the teeth.”  
Gina opened and closed her mouth, recognizing the unfamiliar clack her new fangs made when they slid past her incisors. She first ran her tongue along the new profile of her teeth and then poked one with her claw. “Is that going to be all the time?”  
“Fortunately, no,” Isaac smiled. “But sheathing them takes a little practice. It takes complete control of your emotions to do it, but it’s worth it.”  
“School’s going to be a lot more complicated. I thought hormones were bad enough.”  
“Well you won’t be the only werewolf there. Scott, Ethan, Aiden and I will all be there in case you mess up.”  
“Will that be enough?” Gina looked at him with genuine, deep-set worry. Her eyes remained red for only a few moments longer as she slowly withdrew back into her human shell.  
Isaac didn’t answer her. If Ethan and Aiden still had their Alpha form, maybe. But now...  
“Isaac, tell me you’ll help me. Before the moon rises.”  
“I’ll do everything inhumanly possible.”  
***  
Stiles was at home doing schoolwork in his notebook, and researching the police records on his computer. He had committed his dad’s passwords, all of them, by memory. Even the ones his Dad had changed after he found out Stiles knew them. Even the ones his dad had changed after those. Especially the ones he used after he changed those. He was trying to piece together scraps of news and finding a pattern, hoping to draw Gina into the circle. But he wasn’t having any luck. His statistics homework was going much more smoothly, but didn’t hold his attention nearly as well.  
There was a knock on the door. It was his dad, of course. Stiles slammed his computer shut with a little too much force as his father entered the room.  
“Stiles,” his dad started with an exasperated sigh. “Do I have to ask what you were doing, or should I just change my password again?”  
“No, no,” Stiles wiggled his fingers as if to weave his lie in mid-air, “I was...looking at porn. I am a pervert and you have caught me. I’m just gonna go ahead and die of embarrassment now.”  
His dad gave him the ‘I really hope you don’t expect me to buy that’ face. “Are you done?”  
Stiles actually got really embarrassed.  
“With your act. The reason I came up here was to ask you a couple questions about your friend.”  
“Gina?”  
“Yes. And Isaac. You were there at that party, weren’t you?”  
Stiles nodded, moving back and forth in his rolling chair.  
“Was anyone there talking to her? Did anyone come on to her, or give off any strange behavior?”  
“No, not that I know of,” Stiles answered genuinely. “She’s Isaac’s friend, he’d know her best.”  
“I spoke to him already, but a witness’ best statement pales to,”  
“another that correlates. One’s an incident, two’s a coincidence…”  
“Right. Did she seem ‘out of it’?”  
“She wasn’t drugged,” Stiles shook his head. “Not even really drunk. Just awkward.”  
“She was drunk?"  
"Not even. More like pretending to be. You know, awkward."  
"Awkward how?”  
“You know, just awkward. Said some kind of weird stuff, got embarrassed, apologized, then walked away. We left before she did.”  
“What kind of ‘stuff’? Depressed? Occult?”  
“No, just some odd trivia that lefties were burned at the stake or something.”  
“When did you leave?”  
“Around ten thirty I guess.”  
“And you got home around midnight, so I’m assuming you drove your friends back too,” his dad murmured, making a mental timeline. “Did she have her phone with her?”  
“Yeah. Isaac texted her as we were leaving, she texted back.”  
“Do you know when she was found? She came home the next day around seven in the morning.”  
Stiles hesitated. His dad had been in the darack’s root cellar. To save him, Stiles had willingly allowed a darkness to crawl into his mind and nest there. His dad had no choice but to believe, but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to casually mention his werewolf friends. He wanted his dad to feel like he could do his job, that he could still protect people without deferring to things he didn’t understand. “Scott and Isaac found her.”  
“Did they do the werewolf thing to find her?”  
“Yeah,” Stiles nodded at his father's oversimplification.  
Stiles’ dad sighed and rubbed his knees. “Isaac told me. You don’t have to keep me in the dark on this anymore, Stiles. You’re not actually protecting me. It’s not your job to protect your father. I’m the Sheriff.”  
“I know.”  
“And at this point, it’s more important that I know as much as possible so I can help this girl. No more ‘half truths’ and dodgy lies, got it?”  
“Yes, dad.”  
“Now, this girl,” but Mr. Stilinski was having trouble getting the questions out, which made Stiles’ insides twist. “Was she attacked by a person or…? Did she say?”  
“She was bitten,” Stiles choked out.  
“So she’s...?”  
Stiles could only nod. “But she’s not dangerous,” he blurted. It was a lie though, Derek told them what happened at his house. How Isaac was trying to protect what he called ‘a time bomb’. Gina was not dangerous, but what she could become no one could truly say. Not even Gina herself.  
Stiles decided to tell his dad about what Mr. Argent had found. “We called Allison’s dad, the resident werewolf hunter, and he found some hairs at the scene. He might be able to find who did it.”  
“It looks like I need to talk to him, then. If he still has the hairs we can mail them to the crime lab down south. Get the results in a couple of weeks.”  
There was an awkward silence. Mr. Stilinski was still trying to grasp at all the new information he had on people he thought he knew, and Stiles was watching him trying to cope.  
At that moment, Mr. Stilinski’s phone rang. He answered it quickly. “Yes?” Pause. “Really? You got a signal? Where?” Pause. “Stiles, can I…?” his dad gestured to the laptop.  
Stiles panicked for a moment, then realized the futility of his hesitance and opened it up to all the obvious police tabs. His dad put a hand over his face massaging his brow as Stiles closed them and opened a fresh tab in Chrome. His dad told him to open Google Maps and pushed Stiles’ chair away as he clicked an address into the search bar.  
Stiles leaned forward, getting a better look at the image, noting the surrounding buildings and street names as his dad finished the phone conversation. It dawned on him, and he nearly fell out of his chair.  
“Stiles, what is wrong with you?”  
“People have been asking me that for years, and I still don’t have a straight answer.”  
“The police tabs. Let’s start with those.” His dad was now very annoyed.  
“I’m trying to find other things that might connect. There’s been a pattern, a plan with these guys every time. I wanted to see if I could get ahead before people die.”  
“You think people are going to die?”  
“When have people not died? The video store,” he counted them off his fingers, “the nightclub, the teachers? Wait,” Stiles paused. “Are you actually asking for my opinion on a crime?”  
“Son,” his dad put a hand on his shoulder. “I have had to take a serious look at my job and at this town since I was put in a root cellar. One of the conclusions I came to is that no matter how weird or how crazy things seem to get, you and your friends always get right in the middle of it. And as your father, it is my job that you don’t get into trouble, but seeing as that’s become an inevitability, it’s my job now to make sure that I keep you out of as much trouble as possible. I can’t help that you know more about these ‘supernatural’ things than I do. Just don’t get any ideas. Your biggest job is graduating high school, got it?”  
“Got it.”  
“Good. Do you know this address?” His dad pointed to the screen.  
“Yeah,” Stiles said, standing up and hovering over his desk with his eyes set on the little red pin. “It’s the penthouse where Derek used to live.” It’s where his pack used to be.  
“Is he a wolf too?”  
“Yeah, but he moved out over a week ago. He wouldn’t be there anymore.”  
“Now that’s a coincidence.”  
“I don’t think so,” Stiles shook his head. “Whoever took the phone is sending a message, because maybe they want us to think it has something to do with Derek.”  
“Oh, speaking of message,” Mr. Stilinski scratched his chin as he flipped his pad to another page, “there was one text the Fraes reported as odd that I think was sent after Gina lost her phone.” He showed Stiles the text. “The time stamp says it was sent some time after two in the morning; after Gina was found.”  
The words 'The game begins' stared him square in the face like a neon sign for trouble. “...Three’s a pattern.” Stiles exchanged glances with his dad.__________


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much to the dissatisfaction of everyone, the new wolf, Gina, has less time than ever to master her new Alpha powers as they discover that this month has a blue moon - a second full moon - giving the newbie less than two weeks. Isaac races to train her, but as he does so he's beginning to understand the truth behind Derek's words, that Gina *is* dangerous. Things become even more complicated when they get a new English teacher, an old face they know all too well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention in the other chapters because I thought it was obvious, that the 3 asterix marks are supposed to mean scene breaks.

Two police cars pull up to the old penthouse, which is hardly more than a shabby warehouse that had a few merciful renovations. Officer Stilinski ordered his deputies to cover the exits and to proceed with extreme caution. He knew Derek was a werewolf, and one that attracted practically all the town’s trouble in the last two years. Not to mention that he was involved in the debacle of the several deaths within the Argent family. Whether or not he trusted Derek was besides the point. Being in Derek’s very proximity was hazardous, and knowing his son was in it frequently bothered Stilinski. It bothered him a lot.  
The penthouse was dimly lit at the base floor. There were a few grungy apartment doors that stayed closed even after knocking. Stilinski and his new deputy Sherman moved down the hall and knocked on doors, all the while checking their phones to see how much stronger their signal to the missing phone became. The doors creaked open to reveal characters of various savoriness in nature, but all had denied seeing a phone matching the description. They cleared the first floor, but not with any degree of true confidence.  
The lights flickered. The guns came out. There was an ominous dripping noise that indicated a leak not previously noted. A sudden metallic bang and everyone was on the alert. It got louder and closer, and they both whirled around to see the ancient-looking gated elevator clang to a halt at their floor. “Sherman,” Stilinski turned to his deputy. “Is this the only way up?”  
“There are some emergency stairs at the other end of the hall.”  
“You cover those. I’ll go up this way. Stay in radio contact.”  
Sherman went to the other side of the hall, opened the door carefully, pointed his gun up the stairwell, and then after determining the coast was clear, disappeared from Stilinski’s line of sight. Stilinski got into the elevator, looking over all the musty, clouded buttons and pressed ‘two’. There were only three floors to the building besides the roof, and going to this floor cut down the time Stilinski would be separated from his back up. It was the most sensible place to start.  
The elevator clacked up its rails like a cranky old man, voicing its protests the whole way. The lights flickered and then went out. Stilinski pulled out his gun and pointed it in front of him with his flashlight in the other hand. His breathing slowed. His eyes sharpened to catch any small movement.  
The elevator pressed on.  
He heard the clanging of pipes in the walls. There was a faint hiss of someone taking a shower directly downstairs. He tried to listen for anything that could indicate danger, either to his partner or to himself. This year had been one of loss and close calls. However outmatched, Officer Stilinski knew it was his job to cause as much hell to the enemies of his town as possible.  
The decrepit elevator finally screeched to a halt down a dark hallway. There was a flash of something at the end, a quick glimmer that went out.  
“Freeze!” Stilinski called. “This is the Beacon Hills police. Identify yourself and put your hands behind your head!”  
The glimmer came nearer and got much brighter. Stilinski’s gun was raised with his index finger on the trigger.  
“Officer, stand down,” came the voice of Sherman as he approached. “It’s Sherman.”  
Stilinski lowered his gun and replaced the safety. “Sorry.”  
“You’ve been jumpy since you got back,” Sherman said, looking for a light switch. “Are you sure you didn’t come back too soon?”  
“I feel better when I’m on the job,” Stilinski nodded.  
“Ah,” Sherman said. “Found it.” He turned the switch. Stilinski looked down the hall to observe how the lights would react and caught a glimpse of someone standing in the hallway. It was a man with broad shoulders. Stilinski thought he caught a reflection glare off of glasses, maybe sunglasses? “Let there be light,” said Sherman with no particular amusement, and the few lights that were lit went suddenly out. “Better try the other one then.”  
The lights came on and illuminated the hallway as close as one could call ‘normal’. The figure was gone.  
“There are two doors on this floor,” Sherman repeated. “Two rooms. Shall we go in together?”  
“Yeah…” Stilinski was trying to remember that figure, if he had seen him before. “Yeah let’s do them one at a time.”  
“How’s the signal?”  
Stilinski looked down at his phone. “Strong. I’d say it’s probably in this one.”  
“Word is Derek Hale lived here. You know the one, guy convicted and acquitted of those murders last year?”  
“Yeah, I know the one,” Stilinski sighed.  
“Think he did it?”  
“What does an iPhone go for these days? Two, three hundred bucks? What kind of a thief takes a phone and leaves it behind?” They put in the key they got from the landlord and turned the handle. “Doesn’t make sense.”  
“The guy hasn’t been charged for stealing either,” Sherman added. “I guess we can’t make conclusions just yet.”  
Just then Stilinski heard a noise. He put a finger to his lips and held his gun at his knees as he crouched in position. They both listened. Someone or something was in the room still. He counted three fingers, then held up one. Then two. Then all three again.  
The two officers burst into the room, scattering a small family of rats from something lying in the middle of the floor. They inspected it closer.  
It was a body. And clutched in its outstretched hand was the phone.  
***  
Isaac was running, Gina was close behind. Isaac dodged, ran zigzags, did circles, everything he could to lose her. Gina was relentless. She pursued with laser-like precision, ignoring his dupes and making a beeline for his course. She gave an excited bark as she ran to let him know she was coming. To let him know that she was going to catch up, and she was going to win.  
Isaac even crossed the river to lose his scent. He scampered up the bank as fast as he could, sweat beating down his face and his back.  
Gina stopped at the river, sniffed. Listened with her pointy ears, pointing her head this way and that. Slowing her breathing, extending her senses beyond her physical body. Using Isaac’s training, she’d find him. She knew that. It was a matter of time, and for all Isaac’s cunning for crossing the river, it wouldn’t matter. She’d catch up. His little head start wasn’t going to factor in much.  
She came at the river at a dead run and sailed over it almost completely, stumbling at the bank and letting her shoe sink into the mud almost a half a foot before pulling it out. “Damn,” she cursed under her breath. “These are brand new.”  
Isaac lost the sound of her footsteps and banked around a tree to catch his breath. “Jeese she’s close,” he panted. “I didn’t expect her to be this good this quickly. I definitely shouldn’t have-”  
“Isaac!” Gina called out playfully like the serial killer does in the movies. “Come out come out!”  
Her voice was eerily close. Isaac braced himself for a fight.  
“Where’s the fun in that?” Isaac called back, swallowing hard. The trees right behind him gave a violent rustle. His muscles got tense.  
“True. No sport in it.” He felt a sharp poke in his back and nearly fell over as he turned to see Gina perched in the tree just above him with her feet dangling down, one covered completely with drying mud.  
“Okay,” Isaac huffed. “You got me. How’d you get in the tree so fast?”  
Gina leaped down and came around the trunk, pointing. “Fallen branch connecting ground to trunk,” her finger traced a diagonal line past several adjacent trees, “trunk forks, forming foothold. Leaped reasonable distance to taller tree, gave under force and bent, allowing access to tree just above you.”  
“Not bad,” Isaac wiped his brow. “But I think you’re playing a little too much Assassin’s Creed, don’t you think?”  
Gina gasped with excitement. “Do you have any idea how cool that would be? To be a werewolf assassin climbing trees and having the arm knives?” She flicked her wrists back to expose the imagined iconic daggers hidden by the main character’s signature hooded tunic.  
“You kind of are already.”  
“But claws aren’t as cool,” Gina leaned against the tree.  
“Shall we go back?”  
“We probably should. It’ll be dark soon. I don’t want to be here when it’s dark.”  
“Werewolves can see in the dark. It’s a nice perk.”  
“You know that’s not the reason.”  
Isaac was silent. Gina had been attacked less than a mile away from where they trained. Gina insisted they not move because she wanted to get over it by facing it head on. Isaac wasn’t sure she would cope as fast as she wanted and that could hinder her progress. The blue moon was nearing, and time was the one thing they couldn’t afford to lose.  
“So I did a crazy thing today,” Gina said. She was testing the waters.  
“What kind of a crazy thing?”  
“One I wouldn’t normally do - a human thing,” she corrected. “Not a wolf thing.”  
“What did you do?”  
“I applied to be a Beacon Hills coxswain.”  
“A what?”  
“The person who yells at rowers,” she giggled. “Though I’m glad you didn’t make the obvious dick joke.”  
“You expect you’ll get it a lot?”  
“Going to a high school and calling yourself a ‘coxswain’ is the dictionary definition of ‘asking for it’.”  
They both chuckled as they neared the house.  
“Doesn’t that job require, like, a lot of personal confidence? It’s pretty demanding from what I know.”  
“I don’t have personal confidence?” It wasn’t angry. Not yet. But accusatory.  
“No, it’s not like that,” Isaac defended. “It’s just, you’re non confrontational. You’re not an aggressive person.”  
“The job isn’t about yelling at people because they’re not doing your bidding, that they’re not agreeing with you,” Gina said coldly. “As the coxswain it’s my responsibility to steer. The rowers are responsible for driving, but they don’t see what’s ahead. They don’t see the grand picture, they see what they can from their seats and try to row in time. The coxswain is kind of a shepherd, a leader. They don’t pass blame to people, they just keep them doing what they’re doing in the right order. They maintain order, not force it.”  
“Your responsibility? So you got it?”  
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Gina said coldly. "I got turned into an **Alpha** after all. It's 'my nature'," she said in a snide remark. It was a direct shot at Cora. "I thought it at least wouldn't hurt my chances."  
“Are you sure you can handle that? It takes being loud.”  
“You don’t think I can do it.”  
“I just don’t know if it’s the best fit for you.”  
“Do you know why my parents named me ‘Georgina’?”  
Isaac seemed taken aback by the question.  
“It’s believed that the name is associated with order and service. They imagined me valuing justice, discipline and truth. Like they do. And I do. It’s why I want to become a DA. That means I need to be a leader. And I know it’s no big deal, being a coxswain on a high school rowing team when we don’t even participate in any major league stuff, but I have to start somewhere. I have to try.”  
“It’s just that-”  
“What?” Gina spat, staring hard at Isaac. “That I’m too meek? That I don’t speak up for myself? Well this is me speaking up for myself. I’m taking the job so I can pay for my phone. I’m trying to be responsible while attempting to improve my own character. And I don’t need your approval, Isaac.” She stomped towards the door to her house but stopped. Her entire body froze.  
Isaac was ready for the apology, but when he neared her and put a hand on her shoulder she swatted it away. “Isaac stop. Look.”  
Their eyes landed on the door knob. With Gina’s key in the keyhole, with her various keychains dangling from the ring.  
“I’m going in,” Isaac said, taking the doorknob in his hand.  
Gina grabbed it shaking her head. “What if it’s the guy?”  
“That’s what I’m hoping so I can give him a piece of my mind,” Isaac snarled, his brow morphing to his wolf form.  
Something caught Gina’s eye. She looked into her dining room window and saw a face staring back at her in sunglasses and a deep smirk. She shook Isaac and got him to look but when she turned again, the face was gone. “Isaac, it is the guy! It’s him!” The fear in her voice was like an icicle through Isaac’s heart.  
“How do you know?” he dropped his voice to a near whisper. He knew from her heartbeat and the fear on her voice that she was telling the truth. “It could have just been someone found them and-”  
“He’s in my house,” her breathy voice shook. “But Duncan’s not barking. Is this guy an Alpha too?”  
Isaac was torn. Every fiber of his being wanted to throttle the person who hurt Gina. Who made her life a thousand times more complicated in the worst sort of way. Who effectively did so in a way that conveniently alienated her from the people who could help her best. Whoever did this knew what would happen. This was part of the game. Place Gina into a series of circumstances she couldn’t control, keep her from help and then watch her turn into a homicidal maniac when the full moon struck. And it would strike twice. Isaac wondered how many people she could kill in that time. As an Alpha. Could she even be stopped then? He became aware anew of just how urgent their training was. Just how little time they had.  
But Isaac had to pull himself back. Scott had been right. Allison had been right. Whatever bit Gina was powerful enough so that she in her subservience, being the receiver of the bite and thus inherently lower than the biter, would turn Alpha, highest ranking of werewolves. That meant they were dealing with an Alpha in the very least. Isaac, a Beta, was not strong enough to face it alone, and Gina, though an Alpha, wasn’t well-trained enough to take it on herself. They’d likely both be killed.  
“We’re leaving.”  
“The keys!”  
“Leave them.”  
“I’m calling the police.”  
“Let me call Scott first.”  
  
Scott answered the phone and listened as Isaac spoke quickly, telling him about the keys.  
“I’ll be right over. No, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them. Stay close by.”  
Scott texted Ethan, Aiden, Allison and Stiles. He didn’t want to involve Stiles or Allison. The three of them had contracted enough darkness and had enough close calls with their loved ones that Scott hesitated even on smaller things. The only humans he could rely on were the ones most easily hurt, and as a developing Alpha he was becoming more painfully aware of just how easily.  
Everyone arrived a block away from Gina’s house at a Dunkin Donuts. It was after dark.  
“What’s the plan?” Allison asked, adjusting her quiver of explosive arrows to her back before picking up her hunting-grade metallic bow.  
“We should surround the place,” Ethan suggested.  
“I like that plan,” said Stiles “except the part where we split up.”  
“I agree with Stiles,” Scott consented. “Humans should pair up. Allison, you stick with Isaac, Stiles, you stick with me.”  
“How many doors to the house?” asked Aiden.  
“Three: the back porch, front door and garage, but the garage is closed. My parents aren’t here, but they’ll be home soon. I don’t want them involved. I don’t even know what to tell them.”  
“That means he got in one of two ways,” Scott surmised.  
"The keys were in the FRONT door," Gina interrupted. "He went in through the front door and left them there for me to find."  
“Let’s split into just two groups then," Scott revised the plan. "Ethan, Aiden, Allison and Isaac will go around the back, and Stiles, Gina and I will go around the front.”  
“I’m going with you?” Gina asked in mild surprise.  
“Two Alphas in one team sounded like a good idea,” Scott smirked encouragingly. “Ethan and Aiden may have lost their Alpha form, but they’re still tough.”  
“Team with two Alphas? I like them odds,” Stiles said. “I’ll either be protected the best or ripped apart the fastest.”  
“We’ll protect you,” Gina smiled reassuringly but Stiles grunted in resentment.  
Scott gave a generic signal and they split up around a neighbor’s yard. They approached the house slowly and cautiously, every one with a wolf form in it and at the alert. They paused often as they inched closer to try to catch a smell or a hint of a sound. Scott and Gina were reading each other, testing. Sizing up. Stiles was the only one to observe it. Scott would take a step forward, and Gina instinctively felt the need to surpass it. They glanced at each other with measured emotion. They kept their ears to the house and noses towards the ground, but it made Stiles very nervous. He didn’t want to question Scott’s leadership, and now was not the time to bring up rivalry, but he doubted just how safe he had become. _I can’t believe I’d rather be with the twins right now than with Scott,_ Stiles thought. _Those two tried to kill us. Then again, Scott tried to kill me. But that was during the moon, that was a while ago._  
The two parties separated, scanning each window for a sign of movement. There was none when they both got to the doors. The keys were still in the hole when everyone crowded around the front door. Scott reached for the knob.  
“Wait,” Stiles held up a hand. “Did you touch the keys?” he was asking Gina while Scott rolled his head in impatience.  
She shook her head.  
“Stiles, what are you doing?” Scott asked at the edge of his nerve as Stiles noisily ripped off a piece of Scotch tape he produced from his bag.  
"Why do you carry tape with you?" Gina whispered.  
“Collecting evidence,” he said proudly as he brushed the keys.  
“That's really clever actually. Wait, is that...a blush brush?” Gina said incredulously.  
“Borrowed it from Lydia. I’m getting fingerprints.”  
“Does she know you have it?”  
“Not exactly.”  
“Are you using the correct grade dust?” Gina asked curiously.  
“Oh yeah, I carry a professional forensics kit in my backpack at all times," Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's ground-up mechanical pencil lead.”  
“Will you hurry up?” Scott said through clenched teeth. Stiles stuck the tape to the key and folded it in on itself.  
“There! I’m done! Go in and fight the bad guy,” he said, holding up his hands defensively.  
Scott removed the keys, gave them to Gina, and threw the door into the house. They all pounced in and took in their surroundings. The house looked untouched, so they ruled out a break-in. Everything was in place. They heard many footsteps enter the back of the house. They heard Duncan bark and skitter over on the tile, but then back away quickly with a whimper and go into hiding. According to Gina, likely the laundry room.  
“Isaac!” Scott whispered harshly.  
“We’re in!” Isaac called back. “No one here?”  
“I don’t think so.” Scott replied.  
“He left,” Gina said harshly. “I know his scent. It’s faded, like a lot. He stood right here when I saw him.”  
They spread across the house to make sure. Each room looked like it hadn’t been touched. But Gina gave an angry gasp when she checked her room. Everyone crowded in.  
“My laptop wasn’t open when I went out this morning,” she breathed, accessing her browser history and sweeping through her task manager to see what had been done.  
“My calendar is open,” she murmured as she opened the tab left deliberately on her taskbar. There were markings all over it that she hadn’t placed. Markings that were cryptic messages.  
Everyone crowded around her screen to investigate.  
The garage door opened and a minute later someone walked through the door. All the wolves went into attack mode and stood by the door.  
“Gina!” came a voice from downstairs as the door to the garage closed.  
“Cool it you idiots, it’s my mom!” Gina harrumphed as she pushed the laptop away. Stiles and Isaac took over the investigation.  
Mrs. Frae appeared in the doorway and was surprised to see so many people in her daughter’s room. “When did you all get here? Gina, why didn’t you say you’d have friends over?”  
“We were going to…” she searched, being new at the lying game, “going to go out for pizza. But we didn’t…”  
“We didn’t know a good place, so we stopped here to do some research,” Scott finished, bailing out Gina.  
“Why not at someone else’s house, someone closer to downtown?” Mrs. Frae prodded. She looked first at Scott.  
“Mom’s sleeping,” he covered. “Had a thirteen hour shift that ended this morning.” It wasn’t a lie, so it came easily.  
Mrs. Frae turned to Stiles.  
“My dad’s working a murder, wants me to stay out of it. The usual.”  
“Mom,” Gina said, “I was going to leave you a note but we took longer than expected.”  
“How about this place?” Isaac interjected, showing the screen over to a pizza place’s website. Proof that their plan wasn’t a complete fraud.  
Everyone immediately agreed, albeit maybe a bit too quickly. Mrs. Frae only looked mostly convinced.  
“I guess that’s that,” Gina smiled nervously. “Can we go for pizza?”  
“A bit late to ask,” Mrs. Frae’s agitation wasn’t hidden in any sort of way, “but I guess without a phone there’s not much to it. How did your rowing interview go?”  
“I got the job,” Gina smiled weakly. “I start Monday after school.”  
“Is that going to interfere with homework time?”  
“No, mom. I’ll just use my free periods and get a head start.”  
“That’s my girl,” she smiled, taking one sweep around the room.  
“Oh, mom,” Gina got flustered. “These are friends from school. Scott, Stiles, Allison, Ethan, Aiden and of course you know Isaac.”  
"Actually I'm Ethan," Ethan interjected. Gina had of course mixed them up.   
"And I'm Aiden," he finished. "We get that a lot."   
“Is Isaac friends with these people too?”Mrs. Frae asked warily.  
“We’re all friends,” Allison nodded.  
That seemed satisfactory. “Have fun. Here,” she rifled through her bag. “One whole pie on me.” She handed Gina a twenty. “Be back by nine, okay?”  
“Okay, mom.”  
Mrs. Frae went downstairs. Everyone collectively exhaled. Their attentions returned to the computer.  
“Now we’ve got to go,” Gina groaned.  
“We’ll take it to this place,” Allison pointed to the pizza place tab on the taskbar, now closed as it paled in priority. “They’ve got wifi.”  
Everyone bid goodnight to the Fraes as they piled into Stiles’ and Allison’s car. Scott had arrived on his motorbike, so he went alone. The twins went with Stiles, and everyone else went with Allison.  
Stiles’ phone started buzzing when they were on the road. He handed it to Ethan, who turned it on to speaker phone. “Stiles?” It was his dad.  
“What is it, dad?”  
“I wouldn’t call you unless I thought you could help.”  
Stiles sat straight in his seat. “What’s going on?”  
“The body we found at the penthouse. It’s got all these...markings on it. They look like bite marks.”  
Everyone was listening and the car was completely silent.  
“Is she covered in gratuitous amounts of hair and in serious need of a manicure?”  
“That was my first inclination, but no. The coroner says she’s been dead for a while, at least a week.”  
“Oh,” he said as he pulled into the parking lot of the pizzeria. He saw the other car ahead.  
“Do you think it had something to do with the new one?”  
Stiles’ stomach dropped when he knew his dad had meant ‘Gina’.  
“I don’t know.”  
“We’ll get more on it.”  
“Dad, wait,” Stiles gripped the phone as he got out of the car. The people who went with Allison had beat them there but were in a heated argument. “Something weird happened today. At Gina’s house. Her keys were returned.”  
“That’s not so weird, probably a good samaritan.”  
Stiles thought quickly. To tell his dad about the laptop...or not. What about the break in? If he got his dad involved too quickly, he could uncover something. Something costly. Despite what his dad had said, Stiles felt that it was his job to protect him. He had very nearly lost his dad once, and to someone who didn’t use giant fangs and claws to mangle and dismember its victims. He was prepared to do anything from coming anywhere near that close to losing his one family member again. No one was attacked, the house wasn’t actually broken into. No evidence left behind except what was on the computer. “It’s just that they were in the keyhole. Like, purposefully.”  
“Don’t think too much on it, anyone could have picked them up and thought that was the best way to return them. Gina’s name was on it, right?”  
“I mean, yeah, but Scott and Isaac couldn’t find anything when they found her, not her phone not her keys either! I got fingerprints though. Can you run them?”  
A sigh from the other line. Stiles was trying not to listen to the argument across the lot.  
“Bring them home and we’ll keep them for consideration, but it’s likely nothing.”  
“You guys find a body, you find the phone on the same night and then the keys just magically turn up? What is it you say about coincidences?”  
“I said we’ll look into it. We’re doing this by the books, okay Sherlock? A hunch isn’t even circumstantial evidence. We’ll talk later.”  
“Okay. Also, I’m getting pizza with friends.”  
“...have fun, Stiles.” The phone clicked off. Stiles got out of the car and was audibly assaulted with accusations.  
“Guys!” he called out. “What’s going on?”  
“We were trying to determine why Gina happens to be at the center of everything,” Allison said matter-of-factly. It reminded Stiles of how Lydia spoke to him when she really didn't want to explain herself.  
Gina and Isaac looked less than amused, more like extremely pissed off. Scott arrived noisily on his bike just in time before it got more heated.  
They went inside and argued politely with the waiter to place them near a socket, since Gina’s computer was almost out of battery. They talked with hushed voices to not freak out the other people in there.  
“The two days here and here,” Gina clicked accordingly on her calendar, “are highlighted. Nothing’s written though.”  
“Those are the days of the full moons,” Isaac recalled. “You put them on your calendar in your room.”  
“So whoever got in could have just put them in to mess with you,” Aiden shrugged.  
“Look at that one,” Stiles pointed to the last date of the month. “What’s that say?”  
“Endgame.”  
Everyone went quiet, thinking.  
“The text from Gina’s phone said ‘the Game begins’,” Isaac said.  
“We’re dealing with someone who wanted those things found,” Stiles was nodding, his mind racing to put the pieces together. “The phone was found with a body. Kept on so it could be tracked. The keys were left at Gina’s house in the locks as if they used them to get in and forgot them. Gina said she even saw someone in her house.”  
“I know what I saw,” Gina said in a low voice. “It was him. I know that smell, and I know what he looks like. It’s forever ingrained in my psyche.”  
“This isn’t looking good,” Allison shook her head. “Stiles, did you ask Lydia about it? Aiden, did you?”  
Both of them shook their heads.  
“My dad said the body had bite marks on it. I’m surprised we haven’t heard from her.”  
The waiter asked for their preference in pizzas. They ordered. When the server left, they continued pondering.  
“Did the guy have dark hair?” It flashed before Scott’s mind that Allison was asking because she had a residual feeling of blame towards Derek for killing Kate and Gerard.  
“If you’re insinuating it was Derek,” Gina said, “then you’re wrong. I met Derek, and I really don’t like him, but he didn’t do it. It’s not him, I’m sure.”  
“That’s one Alpha out,” Allison said.  
“He’s not an Alpha anymore,” Scott corrected. “He gave it up to save his sister. I definitely agree it wasn’t him. He wouldn’t attack someone.”  
“No, he wouldn’t,” said Isaac. “When he approached us - Erica, Boyd and me - he gave us a choice. We chose to be bitten. We asked for it. This was different.”  
“Why did he take my phone though if he didn’t use it? My keys?” Gina rubbed her forehead. “He gave them both back, that doesn’t make any sense.”  
“None of it makes sense,” Scott shook his head. “Yet. They're messages. He wants us to follow. He wants us to play.”  
“‘The only way to win is not to play,” Gina recanted in a robotic voice. Everyone stared. “No one’s seen 'War Games'? Really? None of you?”  
The pizza arrived to break the awkward silence. Everyone munched thoughtfully.  
Allison kept pursuing the topic. “Was he light-skinned?”  
Gina nodded with her mouth full of pepperoni.  
“It could be Peter,” she said. “We haven’t seen him in a long time. He’s still an Alpha, isn’t he? He was the one who bit Scott.”  
“We haven’t ruled him out yet,” Scott assented.  
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Isaac added. “Derek’s no longer an Alpha, who’d oppose him?”  
“But then why make Gina an Alpha?” Ethan asked. “She could oppose him.”  
“She’s a newbie though,” Aiden reminded his brother. “Not likely.”  
“I’m right here,” Gina said vexed.  
“She’s not part of his pack,” Scott shook his head. “I don’t think she would anyway.”  
“They did say they didn’t want me in their pack. Could this be some sort of revenge thing for killing him?”  
“How much do you know?”  
Stiles heard the uncertainty in Scott’s voice. The test. Another test.  
“Isaac told me you and Derek killed Peter. What if I’m Peter’s way of getting back at Derek? Would that mean we thwarted him when Derek told me to leave?”  
“I don’t think so,” Stiles shook his head. “Peter thinks in long term. He’s good at manipulating, one little snag wouldn’t stop him. We do know that these plans end on the last day of the month. He has until then.”  
“We should ask Lydia,” Allison sat back, pushing her empty plate away. Scott asked if he could treat himself to her crusts. She shrugged in indifference, but watched him take them. “She and Peter are connected. Maybe it goes both ways. Maybe she could spy on him for a change.”  
***  
School was buzzing with activity. Evidently fliers were showing up everywhere and people were talking about them. They were stuffed in lockers, taped to the walls, visible everywhere. Scott, Stiles, and Allison all joined up in the hall to discuss the previous night. They were interrupted however by Lydia, who was storming purposefully in their direction. “Stiles!” she hissed. “Where is my blush brush?” She held out her palm, demanding.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles countered indignantly.  
“Oh like you didn’t think I’d notice when you commented on my shoes as you put your hand in my bag and took it. You don't care about shoes!”  
Stiles looked away and turned pink.  
“Well I need it, so give it back. Now.”  
Stiles reached into his bag and took it out like a guilty puppy. "So you know, you might wanna wash-"  
“At least you didn’t rip out any of the hairs,” she said haughtily as she whipped out her blush, swirled the brush in the powder and started applying blackened pink powder all over her cheeks, making her look like a badly drawn raccoon. Everyone held their breath, wondering if she’d notice.  
She looked at them. “What? Is my hair okay?”  
“Your hair’s fine,” Allison said, avoiding her gaze.  
Lydia looked between them and none of them looked at her. “Stiles,” she said icily. “What did you do to my brush?”  
“To preface the horrible beating I’m likely to receive, I maintain that it was absolutely necessary that I use your brush and that no other alternative could have been gained in time.”  
“What did you do to my brush?” Lydia narrowed her eyes, making her black cheekbones and temples shift.  
“It’s possible I may have used them to dust for fingerprints…?”  
Lydia bashed Stiles with her bag and then made a beeline for the bathroom.  
“That didn’t go nearly as badly as I thought,” Stiles said from his curled up defensive position with his arms at his face.  
“They have a connection alright,” Scott nodded. “Because this isn’t the end of it with Lydia either.”  
Stiles groaned.  
When they sat down in class, they noticed how everyone was completely absorbed with the new flyers. They took pictures with their phones and passed them around, putting them together.  
Danny was holding one. Scott leaned over to look.  
“It’s a flyer for something” Danny explained when he saw Scott leaning into his personal space. “But like, they kept them incomplete. Every flyer is different.”  
“What’s it for?"  
“We don’t know, but you gotta hand it to them, everyone’s talking about it.”  
“Yeah…” Scott said as he noted the people in the room holding one. “They are.”  
The principal walked in and stood at the front of the class. “Can I have your attention? We have an announcement.”  
The room eventually quieted down to a soft murmur.  
“Mr. Ginsben, the sub who kindly took over after Ms. Blake had to leave unexpectedly, may now step aside to give way to our new teacher who is eager to begin. So please warmly welcome our new English teacher.” He started clapping while gesturing with a nod for the new teacher to enter the room. Everyone clapped half-heartedly until the door opened. Allison, Scott, Stiles and Isaac’s hearts stopped beating. The person who walked into the room stood by the principal’s side and beamed at his new class.  
“Mr...Marx was it?” the principle asked.  
“Mister Marx works fine for me,” he smiled, looking at the obvious three. “While some may know me from outside school, I would prefer that name above all others. I look forward to being a part of your class this year. I’ve got big plans.”  
“Well thank you for coming on such short notice Mr. Marx,” the principal shook his hand.  
The new teacher was Deucalion.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gina discovers just what being an Alpha means, and unfortunately it doesn't bode well for her relationship with Isaac. Meanwhile, unusual break-ins are happening all across town and no one can explain them - nothing broken, nothing stolen. Gina finds that her phone wasn't just stolen, but tapped as if she's being kept an eye on, but by who? Scott gets an offer he can't really refuse, because it means the lives of unknown numbers of people are in his hands.

The class proceeded as normal, as if it were an average, everyday thing that a psychotic, formerly blind lycanthropic murderer could teach high school English. But only four people in the class were even remotely aware of his capabilities, so as far as everyone else was concerned it would be another humdrum semester. But what everyone was aware of, consciously or not, was the possibility that someone was going to die. The sheer number of murders and their nearly incomprehensible - to those not in the know of course - span put everyone on edge.  
Some people had packed their bags and moved away, freeing the class sizes to what the most liberal administrators had been pushing for. They had taken Mr. Marx because they had seen a remarkable hesitance from the previously thriving teaching community to take the spot. In fact, for one reason or another, Mr. Marx was not only the most qualified contestant in their search, but also the only one period.  
As class ended, people filed out, leaving only four students; Scott, Allison, Isaac and Stiles. Stiles was holding his breath. Allison was staring, too angry and nervous to blink, maintaining eye contact with their murderous new teacher in case he made any sudden movement. She was reaching for her taser in her backpack. Scott and Isaac simply clenched their fists trying not to shift. “Is there a problem, students?” he asked in his deceptively silky English accent.  
“Yeah, I’d say that’s about right,” snarled Scott. “What are you still doing here?”  
Deucalion acted surprised. “Making the most of our agreement.”  
“It wasn’t an ‘agreement’ so much as a ‘condition’,” Scott replied behind his teeth. “We gave you your sight because we knew you were capable of leaving and redeeming yourself. Don’t think we’ve forgotten what you did to Erica and Boyd.”  
“Did it not occur to you that that’s precisely what I’m doing, Scott?” Deucalion purred. “Redeeming myself? I left as you asked, or as it were, as you **ordered**. You’re becoming quite the Alpha.” His smirk all the more upsetting because he could look at them with his fully functional eyes and not need to hide behind sunglasses. “Your authority has become well established. And you’ve adopted the twins. Good. You’ll need it. You’ll need them.”  
“Why the games?” Allison asked point blank.  
“I’m not playing games,” Deucalion became serious. “But someone in this town is. I left to do as you asked, but feared that your little stunt with the darack would bring around more trouble. I heard about the murder of that girl. I came straight back.”  
“You did it, didn’t you?” Stiles spoke up. “My dad was all over it. He didn’t even release the gender.”  
“She was covered in bites right below where I used to live,” Deucalion scrunched up his nose in annoyance. “You don’t think I would have heard about it?”  
“It was in Derek’s apartment. One you got to know pretty well,” Scott spat.  
“If you actually knew who it was, you would think twice about accusing me.” Deucalion’s voiced was laced with venom as he explained. “It was my sister.”  
The four of them froze. “You’re a chronological liar,” Isaac glared. Deucalion's hearbeat never wavered.  
“It’s _pathological liar_ ,” Deucalion corrected. “Honestly, it’s probably for the benefit of everyone that I’m here. Though I suppose your...choice of words serves a nearly equal function. But more to the point. Something is causing trouble in Beacon Hills and, being curious as I am, I came to investigate. As I heard your friend has been turned in a quite peculiar fashion?”  
They all shot up. Especially Isaac. Everyone stood with hairs on end.  
“I used to be blind, not deaf,” he rolled his eyes. “As I came through town to apply for this job I happened to have...heard it along the grapevine. An Alpha has the sense of these things, don’t they, Scott?”  
Scott looked ready to pounce, but he was expertly steeling himself. Enough of Deucalion’s words convinced him that he could be telling the truth to prevent rash action. But only just enough of them.  
“Is she coping well? The blue moon approaches rather soon.” Scott listened for an increase in heartbeat, tried to detect a rise in sweat levels, a tremor in his voice. Anything to indicate a lie. Anything to betray nervousness. There was none. Deucalion was the textbook example of ‘cool as a cucumber’. Other than a faint trace of ambiguous malice, Scott detected nothing.  
“She’ll be fine so long as you stay away from her,” Isaac growled. His hands gripped either side of the desk, claws fully extended.  
“Watch it now,” Deucalion gestured to the desk. “Damaging school property is a serious offense.”  
“I don’t have parents to scold me, try it,” he challenged.  
Deucalion looked mildly amused but a little surprised too. He took a few steps towards them, sensing the other students arriving for the next period. He leaned in close as if to divulge a secret. “Between you and me, I think the culprit is at the school.”  
“What makes you say that? Your little spies, the twins?” Allison stared him in the face, now at eye-level.  
“The twins have chosen their side, we no longer associate,” Deucalion replied coolly. “However, they were pack to me, and I do have their best interests in mind though I no longer lead them. You above all others Scott know the bond shared between pack members.”  
Scott stood by his seat fuming.  
“Stiles, I presume?” his attention went towards Stiles. “You’re the brains of this little ‘operation’, if you can call it that. Look at the history; doesn’t the school always happen to be one of the epicenters of trouble in this little town? Isn’t that interesting?”  
Stiles’ gaze gave away that he was afraid. He was very much afraid of Deucalion and had every right to be. But he hid it well when he delivered his reply straight as an arrow. “You’re right. It is. But I’m inclined to think that it isn’t naturally a battleground so much as chosen to be one. Chosen by people with the worst in mind.”  
“Hmm," Deucalion withdrew, standing at his full height. “Just remember what I told you. Keep an eye out, especially down these halls. Wouldn’t want any more students getting out of control, now would we?” He sat at his desk and crossed his fingers together. “I believe your next period starts soon. Run along.” He shooed them out, but they were all too happy to leave.  
“He’s in on it,” Isaac was resolute. “He knows about Gina. Who besides us knows? We haven’t told anyone, not even Deaton!”  
“He’s right though,” Scott countered. “As an Alpha, your senses are heightened to detect any sort of supernatural...whatever surrounding a person. I could tell you were a wolf even before that, even before then.”  
“So you’re saying Deucalion could be telling the truth?” Allison was shocked. “You’re taking his side?”  
“I’m not going to discount it so quickly,” Scott put his hands up.  
“His voice was practically saturated with malice, the kind of saturation one’s socks get after a practice with coach in the summertime.”  
“Yeah, Stiles, we really didn’t need that description,” Allison pursed her lips in disgust. “I think we get it.”  
“It could have been towards the death of his sister,” Scott presented. “We have to look at all the factors. Deucalion is an Alpha, a powerful one. But he wasn’t lying. Derek had a similar reaction when we found his sister wrapped up in wolfsbane.”  
“Not a lie you could detect,” Isaac grumbled.  
"The way he talked about her before he told us who she was..." Stiles postulated. "It was as if he didn't know her, like the 'sister' thing was a cover-up."  
“But is Deucalion really going to kill his own sister?" Scott burst in. "Is he strong enough to turn an Alpha by biting them? He gathered his pack, made them kill their own. He doesn’t turn them himself. He made it a point of not getting his hands dirty. It's not his style.”  
“So we’re still going with Peter?” asked Allison.  
“For now,” Scott shrugged. “He’s the only Alpha who we can’t be sure isn’t up to something who we also know has bitten before...though being the only one of that group doesn’t exactly give us a large picture.”  
“So Deucalion didn’t do it?”  
“I’m not saying that either!” Scott was now very annoyed. “I’m not discounting either of them. I’m just saying we don’t know enough yet, and both are dangerous. Almost equally so. We need a plan, and we’ll need more pieces before we get one. I just think Peter fits the description a tiny bit more.”  
“Do we just wait for bodies to pile up like last time?” Isaac scowled.  
“We’ve got Lydia,” Stiles suggested. “She and I could try to put our heads together and figure this out.”  
“As soon as she stops being angry at you,” Allison gestured with her eyes, but Stiles could already feel the cold, icy death stare as they walked past Lydia, who had been talking to Aiden but was giving the evil eye to Stiles.  
“Would flowers work?”  
“They’d wilt,” Isaac grinned.  
“Chocolate?”  
“She’d hate you for trying to make her fat,” Allison sighed.  
“How do I make up for something like that?”  
Everyone shrugged.  
***  
Scott went in to work to find Deaton running rampant around. “Finally!” he called out. “Glad you came. Quick, help me out in the back. Grab some sedatives, quickly!”  
Scott rushed to Deaton’s side and they sedated most of the animals in holding. “What’s going on?”  
“They’re reacting very strongly. It started when Mrs. Frae dropped off her dog. All the animals started acting oddly, knocking over their cages, chewing on their bars. It’s like they were trying to escape it.  
Scott recognized the name and looked down at the bottom level, where the terrified Scottish terrier cowered in his cage. “It’s Duncan.”  
“Yes,” Deaton said, bustling about the room, trying to right the chaos. “Does that mean anything?”  
“Yeah, I think it does. Duncan belongs to Gina. She was recently bitten.”  
Deaton nearly stopped what he was doing. He worked instead in silence. “Do you know yet by whom?”  
“No, but we’ve got two in mind that could have done it. But there’s something different about this one.”  
“Being?”  
“She’s an Alpha.”  
“That’s...not possible,” Deaton wrinkled his brow. “Alphas aren’t born, they ascend.”  
“We know,” Scott nodded. “That’s what we can’t get our heads around.”  
“It’s possible that whoever bit her made her go through an initiation, brought a sacrifice with them when they turned her. Made her perform an act that would ascend her prematurely.”  
“Ick,” Scott said in disgust.  
“Not THAT kind of act!” Deaton rolled his eyes. “High schoolers,” he mumbled under his breath.  
“I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen, or we would have found a second body.”  
“Didn’t Officer Stilinski find one recently?”  
It hit Scott like a bag of bricks. “Yeah...with bite marks.”  
“I don't mean to make assumptions, but it's possible you might have an answer there.”  
“It doesn’t feel right,” Scott shook his head. “Deucalion said it was his sister-”  
“Deucalion’s returned?” Deaton lost the color in his face. “When?”  
“He’s our new English teacher.”  
“That’s not good. Not at all.”  
“I guess it makes sense. Whoever turned Gina made her kill an innocent person...who could have been a werewolf considering her relation to Deucalion. Deucalion has made people kill others for his bidding." _I guess that puts Deucalion back on the list_ he thought. "But wouldn’t she remember that?”  
“Have you asked her?”  
 _'No'_ Scott replied to himself. _But wouldn’t Gina know if she took a life? She isn’t a killer. But then again, Alpha eyes are red. There’s no way of knowing if her eyes are blue beneath unless you remove her Alpha...ness._ The mental battle raged until Scott filed it away under ‘Things to Ask Stiles’.  
***  
“It’s not possible,” Isaac shook his head resolutely. “It’s just not. Gina wouldn’t do that.”  
“Not willingly, but Derek didn’t kill Boyd because he wanted to,” Scott ground his teeth.  
“Deucalion was responsible for that, maybe he killed his own sister,” Isaac challenged. “That or he made Gina kill his sister. The guy’s messed up, I wouldn’t put it past him.”  
“I’m inclined to agree with Isaac,” Allison said, but sounding unconvinced. “But Peter’s proven plenty dangerous all on his own. It seems awfully convenient that all the Alphas in his family except him are gone. Now of all times. I’m for figuring this out first.”  
“Hold up, guys. I’ll catch you later,” Isaac said, walking over cautiously to Gina who was standing at her locker staring into space and flexing her fingers. “You alright?”  
“I think so,” she blinked.  
“It’s just glue,” Isaac shrugged, pulling a strand of dried adhesive off her finger. “It’s fun to pick off.”  
“I know,” she said half-dreamily. “It’s just that I don’t remember using it.”  
That made Isaac pause. “Like there was a lapse in your memory?”  
“Not even that,” she shook her head, still lost in thought. “I went to bed and woke up, no dreams even. But I was tired. Like, really tired, like I only got a couple hours of sleep tired, but I woke up in my bed in my pajamas and everything was in place. No weird somnambulism that I can recall.”  
“You’re not supposed to remember sleepwalking.”  
“But you’d think there’d be more signs that I did.”  
“Maybe you’re just tired and don’t remember using glue because of that?” Isaac tried not to let on that this made him worried.  
“Maybe…” she trailed off. Her eyes glanced at his heart. She was listening. She knew he was thinking about it. She looked away. “Have you seen these flyers around? They’re ridiculous, there’s hardly anything on them.”  
“Bits and pieces mostly. Talk to you later?” Isaac needed an out.  
“Yeah, when you come over.”  
Isaac left Gina at her locker, and she was still staring pensively at her sticky hands.  
***  
True to his word, Isaac did come over. Gina was ruffling papers in her room when he knocked. “Whatcha up to?”  
“A hunch,” she replied cryptically. “Just seeing if I could get a sense of what the flyers are advertising. Ready to go?”  
“Yeah. Today we’re going right to combat.”  
“Couldn’t I hurt you though?”  
“Yeah. But it’s a risk we need to take. Circumstances changed.”  
Gina gave him her full attention. “What kind of circumstances?”  
“I’ll tell you when we get to the woods.”  
Gina grabbed her tote bag which she filled with snacks, maps and things she felt were necessary for their wood adventures. She stopped to grab water bottles from the fridge.  
“So what’s going on? What’s changed?”  
“Someone we thought we sent away, someone very bad has come back. And we don’t know what he’s up to.”  
“Would I know him?”  
“A guy named Deucalion, the Alpha of the Alpha pack I mentioned?”  
“Oh. That’s not good.”  
Isaac observed carefully to see if the name rang any bells. If she had any reaction. She didn't. “No. It isn’t. We also know that Peter is around, the Alpha that should be dead.”  
“Sounds to me like you guys suspect either one of them of something. Has it something to do with me?”  
“If I said no, I’d be lying.”  
“And as a wolf I can tell when someone is, right?”  
“There are a few ways. Their smell changes,” Isaac pulled on his shirt for emphasis.  
“Hormones for fear are released, got it.”  
“Their breathing quickens. Heart races. Their pupils dilate.”  
“General fear response,” Gina concluded in a way that Isaac was reminded of Lydia. “That’s what they test for in a polygraph.”  
“Well you’re a walking polygraph now, and you come with the needles,” he made a clawing gesture and Gina laughed.  
“Did one of these guys bite me you think?”  
“That’s what our friends said. We’re not sure yet which. There’s something else, though.”  
“What?”  
“We think we know how you got to be an Alpha so fast.”  
“Tell me.”  
“You’re not going to like it.”  
“I don’t like anything about being a werewolf so far,” she said flatly. “How much worse can it get?”  
“Much worse. We think you killed someone.”  
Gina’s face went white. She shook her head in protest because words failed her. “You’d think I’d remember…”  
“You wouldn’t have to. Whoever bit you wanted you to be an Alpha. They knew it’d cause the most trouble, you’d be more powerful. They got you to ascend by making you kill a powerful werewolf. Deucalion’s sister was found dead with bite marks. You wouldn’t even have to be aware of it, it could have been any time after you were bitten and before Scott and I found you.”  
Gina had to sit to think about it, hugging herself around the middle. “I find it too hard to believe.”  
“I don’t want it to be true,” Isaac’s insides felt constricted as if held by barbed wire. “But it’s all we’ve got so far.”  
“When you found me, was I covered in blood?”  
Isaac’s turn to be speechless. The memory was still too raw, the fear of losing her too near. He nodded.  
“What about my face? Around my mouth?”  
“You were cut up pretty bad.”  
“But around my mouth,” Gina pressed. “What about in my mouth?”  
“You did cough it up when we found you. All over my shirt.”  
“Did you wash it?” Gina sat bolt upright. “The blood can be tested. We can rule it out with science, test the DNA in the red blood cells…”  
“I don’t think so, lemme text Scott.” Isaac pulled out his phone and hit the keyboard like a madman. 'Scott, find my shirt from last week when we found Gina. Has blood on it. We can test it for DNA.'  
He got a reply some time later. 'To see if she bit D’s sister?'  
'Yeah'  
'One sec'. There was an agonizing minute that went by before Scott gave the all clear. They had the shirt.  
“Tell him to put it in a bag to preserve it. Label it. We need to get it to the police station.”  
“I think Stiles would be a better medium, considering he’d understand why we’d hand him a bloody T shirt to a crime only he knows about.”  
“Doesn’t his dad know?”  
“We’re trying not to get him involved as long as possible.”  
“Oh.”  
“Let’s carry on then,” Isaac started doing stretches. “Well?”  
Gina took her cue and sprinted away at full speed, putting as much ground between her and Isaac as possible. She knew Isaac would be close behind, so she didn’t have as much time to prepare a defensive strategy as she would like. _So what if I go on the offensive?_ she thought deviously. _Isaac’s a better fighter. He’ll be okay._ She darted behind a bush and removed a shoe, then the other. She heard Isaac coming up the hill, so she threw one as hard as she could in one direction, away from the bush. Then the other right after.  
It worked. Isaac was listening for foot falls, he imagined her running further away because she was ‘non-confrontational’. His words burned in her. She knew he disagreed with her parents about just how helpless their little girl was, but he still believed she couldn’t handle herself and needed protection. That she was too meek. _We’ll see about that,_ she grinned as she unsheathed her claws, pointed her ears and clicked her fangs against her lower incisors.  
Isaac fell right for it. He was sniffing her out and taking careful steps in the direction she threw her shoes when she leaped out, giving a warning cry and landed directly on his shoulders. She gripped him around the neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, cackling like a little sister. Isaac was brought to his knees, flailing his arms, trying to reach her but she had him in her grasp. “Gotcha, Isaac!” she called victoriously. “Told you I could handle it. I told you I was ready!”  
Isaac wasn’t saying anything.  
“Come on,” she gloated. “You went easy on me, stop faking! Let’s try again, but this time-”  
Isaac was gasping. Actually gasping for air. Gina released her grip and he fell to the ground taking in air like a fish out of water. “Isaac!” she called, now very afraid. Her features withdrew and she held him in her arms. “Isaac, are you okay?”  
Isaac started coughing and pushed her away, rolling over to his side to catch his breath.  
“Ohmygod Isaac I’m so sorry!” she trembled. “I didn’t even realize I was hurting you.”  
“I know,” Isaac wheezed. “That’s the worst part.”  
Gina sat at his side waiting for him to recover, too terrified to touch him.  
“Need I remind you that you’re stronger than me? You need to be careful!”  
“I’m trying.”  
“No, you’re not! You’re assuming I’ll be okay because I’m a werewolf, but it doesn’t work that way. You forget that I’m a Beta. Lesser rank. Second banana. Sidekick. I’m Robin, you’re Batman.”  
Gina was quiet.  
“This isn’t a game, Gina. You’ve been learning, you try really hard. I know. But whenever I come to teach you I’m terrified you’ll end up hurting me. By mistake. But you need to remember and fully accept that you are capable of killing me, Allison, Stiles or any singular person in this town, and the fact that you can do it without trying should be as terrifying to you as it is to me.”  
“I **am** scared.”  
“Not scared enough.”  
“If you’re so scared of me,” Gina said slowly, deliberately. “Then why are you still helping me? Why do you try so hard and put yourself in danger when I’m clearly a huge threat to everyone?”  
“Because you need it” Isaac looked away.  
“I know I’m not the strongest, or the cleverest, but I’m not weak. I knew my parents thought it, they made no secret of it, but you, Isaac. I had hoped you thought better of me than that.”  
“You’re new at being a werewolf!” Isaac defended, avoiding her gaze. “You need practice! I needed it too, but I wasn’t an Alpha. You need it all the more for that.”  
“Look at me in the face and tell me that.”  
“You think I’m lying to you?”  
“I think you’re avoiding the truth,” Gina’s eyes narrowed. “At least Derek and Cora had the decency to be upfront with me. Even if it hurt, they put it straight. So I ask again,” her anger started rising. “Why help me when everyone else in your pack is afraid of me? They hardly even talk to me, they were talking about me at the pizza place when I was sitting right there as if I didn’t exist!”  
Isaac tried to find the words, his eyes gazing about aimlessly.  
“Isaac!” Her eyes gleamed red and her fangs were bared. “Tell me!”  
Every nerve in Isaac’s body was suddenly aimed at what Gina wanted. She had made a command, and he was forced to comply. He was hers. He had always been hers in one way or another, but now it was definite. Set in stone. He was now her Beta. “Gina,” he said, straining to get the words out clearly as they squirmed their way out of his larynx. “Because I care about you, and I don’t want you hurting anyone else. I don’t want you getting involved.”  
“'Else'. 'Hurting someone else'." Her voice was tempered steel. "So you really think I killed Deucalion’s sister,” It wasn't a question but a fact. But she had complete command over Isaac, so he was forced to answer.  
“It makes too much sense.”  
“Fine,” she gulped, her voice trembled with the promise of tears. “If I’m such a danger to you, then leave.”  
“Gina I can’t, the moon is in a week!”  
“I’ll figure it out. You don’t have to risk your life for me anymore. Go back to your pack. Go back to Scott. Go back to Derek. I’ll be okay.”  
“Gina,” Isaac’s voice cracked with sorrow, but his legs stood him up. His hips turned him about face. His feet started walking. “Gina! Wait! Take it back!”  
“No, Isaac,” her red eyes glistened with tears as they streamed down her face. “This is for the best. Go.”  
“Take back your command! Stop using the Alpha voice, you don’t mean it!”  
“I do mean it, Isaac. I’m doing for you what you can’t do for yourself.”  
“You’re making me leave, I can’t come back! I can’t help you anymore. This can’t be what you want.”  
Gina stood up with her shoulders back, drawing herself up as tall as she could. She was in full Alpha form. “Go!”  
Isaac couldn’t have turned if he wanted, nor could he have stopped. It was as if he was a train car on a rail with no working brakes. Gina’s hold broke over him after he passed her house, but out of his own anger he kept going until he was back at Scott’s house.  
Gina cried softly to herself as she made her way back, listening in vain for signs of Isaac. “I really did it,” she whispered to herself. “I ordered him to leave, and he left. Cora was right. He had no choice but to obey. This was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? It had to be.”  
Just then Gina heard a scream, which made her jump. It was coming from her pocket. It was her phone going off with an alarm flashing on the screen. The alarm was ‘Scream’ by the band Avenged Sevenfold, which was a band she listened to with headphones on when her parents were home. “I didn’t set this.” The title of the alarm was 'Seven days. I hope you’re ready.' She nearly dropped it, but the song kept going. _“We’ve all had a time where we’ve lost control...we’ve all had a time to grow...I’m hoping I’m wrong but I know I’m right. I’ll hunt again one night…”_  
Gina trudged into her house and went straight to her room. “Gina?” her mom called. “Is everything okay?”  
“Isaac and I had a fight.”  
“Aww, a lover’s quarrel?”  
“No. We won’t be speaking to each other, probably not for a long time.”  
“Do you want to talk about it?  
 _Yes. I do need help._ “No.”  
“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”  
Gina closed the broken door and faced the calamity that was her room with the papers strewn everywhere. “Bits and pieces,” she sighed. “Pieces falling apart, like my life.” She kicked one with her foot and it flipped a few times in the air before falling onto another. “Wait…” she knelt closer to the papers, noting the overlap forming something.  
***  
“She did it, then,” Scott shook his head. “She’s realized her power.”  
“I made her do it.”  
“Don’t defend her, she nearly killed you!”  
“I pushed her.”  
“She almost strangled you! The bruises are still around your neck! Those are Alpha inflicted, you know they won’t heal soon.”  
Isaac just shook his head as if in a daze. “It’s my fault.”  
“I hate to say it, but Derek was right,” Scott put a hand to his chin. “If Gina can do this to you, imagine what she can do anyone.”  
“She wants to be normal. That’s all.”  
“The only way to turn human again is to kill the one who bit you, and her chances aren’t looking good right now if it’s Peter or Deucalion.”  
“If we brought her into Derek’s pack, trained her instead of alienating her, then maybe she’d cooperate.”  
“What if that’s what he wants? The original Alpha. To infiltrate our pack, to break it apart?”  
“That does sound like a Deucalion thing to do. He could still be after you.”  
“But he wouldn’t kill his own sister, would he? And he doesn’t bite. It’s beneath him. What if he wants to get to Peter?”  
“What if Peter wants to get to Deucalion? He and Gina might actually be able to do it now that Deucalion is alone.”  
“What if Deucalion wants to come back for the twins? He can still order them around.”  
“They’ve sided with us, haven’t they?” Stiles closed the door behind him. “The twins?”  
“Deucalion’s their Alpha, that might not matter.”  
“What use would they be to him without their Alpha form?” said Isaac.  
“That weird, Voltron thing where they merge like the Wonder Twins?” Stiles broke in.  
“No, Stiles, the one where they call upon the powers of darkness and -yes!” Isaac barked.  
“What’s got your fur in a twist?”  
“Gina used the Alpha voice on him,” Scott said very seriously. “She’s refusing his help and the full moon is next week. One of them. She’s going to be completely unprepared and who knows if and how many people she’ll kill.”  
“There’s something I wanted to tell you, actually why I came over,” Stiles put down his bag in the corner. “My dad said there was just a break-in.”  
“Where?”  
“Was anyone hurt?”  
“Michael’s house, and no,” Stiles said. “But here’s the thing, nothing was taken. Nothing was even broken.”  
“How does that make any sense?” asked Isaac.  
“It doesn’t,” said Scott.  
“They think the suspect came in through the window, the screen’s busted. There’s a tree not far from the room where most of the damage was spotted.”  
“They could have climbed it.”  
“That’s what my dad’s thinking,” Stiles nodded.  
“We should check for claw marks,” Isaac suggested.  
“We’ll have to go tomorrow, my dad’s guys are all over his house.”  
“Let’s do that.”  
***  
When everyone reconvened at school the next day, things had gotten even stranger. People were talking about the break-ins plural, as there had been apparently three more after the first. There were students and teachers alike convening to go home in groups, going in droves to the hunting lodge and getting heavy duty locks for their bikes, for safes, for doors. People were getting paranoid and it left Stiles, Scott, Allison, Lydia and Isaac even more mystified.  
“Nothing is ever taken?” Lydia asked confused. “Or even broken? Who the hell does that?”  
“Someone with a taste for the dangerous?” Stiles shrugged.  
“Or someone who wants people to know they can do it. As a fear tactic,” Lydia offered, going into ‘genius detective’ mode. Stiles was in quiet awe as she kept going. “Until it can be determined what’s being taken, they’re establishing that boundaries don’t hold them. They can’t be kept out. They can roam as they please. A simple, but efficient strategy for someone who wants to toy with people. For them this is probably-”  
“A game” said all of them in unison.  
“This is all wrong,” Stiles shook his head. “If Peter or Deucalion was the one who took Gina’s phone, put her keys in the lock and sent those weird messages and marked her calendar, why would they break in? Why do this? It doesn’t fit either of them.”  
“Maybe they’ve got lackies to do it for them,” Allison said. “They both like to wait on the sidelines. They both are master manipulators; Peter with Lydia and Deucalion with pretty much everyone.”  
Lydia put on her poker face, but Stiles knew it still bothered her immensely that Peter was around, not to mention very much alive. Peter meant Lydia was vulnerable.  
“Don’t look at me,” she hissed. “I didn’t do it.”  
“Not that we can prove anything, but I don’t think you did either,” Scott shook his head.  
“Things are complicated now,” said Isaac. “We have two Alphas who could be behind it, and now these break-ins that might not be related at all that doesn’t fit either of them that could be perpetrated by one of two people.”  
“There’s a second person?”  
“Gina.”  
Everyone went quiet.  
“What makes you think it was her?” asked Allison.  
“The other day she had glue on her hands and couldn’t explain why. She’s not taking art this semester.”  
“When were you going to mention this?” asked Lydia with pouted lips poised indignantly.  
“I didn’t think it was important, she said she didn’t remember getting out of bed or seeing anything weird.”  
“So the plot thickens,” Stiles bit his pencil and pretended to blow out pretend smoke.  
“What are you, Alfred Hitchcock?” Scott grinned.  
“Sherlock Holmes, plebe,” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Just promise me you won’t wear a deerstalker, Stiles.”  
“No guarantees,” he grinned.  
***  
After class, they crowded in the lunchroom so no one would hear. Gina stepped in their direction with her tray, but she caught the eyes of the five and then quickly walked in another direction to sit by herself facing the opposite wall.  
“Should we invite her over?” Scott presented. Everyone looked to one another for an answer. “If we don’t, she might hold it against us.”  
“Always the ambassador,” Allison whispered, smiling despite herself with muted pride. “It might be good to show we can be nice. She’s probably not had the best introduction to the...culture.’  
“No, she really hasn’t,” Isaac said bitterly.  
Scott stood up and walked over to her. Isaac used his hearing to listen to what they were saying. Stiles and Allison leaned towards him to get the details.  
“He’s just asking her to come eat with us.”  
“What’s she saying?”  
“She’s pausing. Scott’s saying that she’s our friend and shouldn’t eat alone. She’s asking if that’s a good idea. Scott’s shrugging it off. He’s pressing it. Oh no.”  
“What?” asked Allison and Stiles in unison.  
“I forgot that they’re both Alphas. They’re doing the Alpha thing where they size each other up, test their authority. Staring contest, basically.”  
“This’ll go over well,” Stiles crossed his arms.  
“She said yes. They’re coming this way.”  
“Act natural,” Stiles said, assuming a near-ridiculous position. Allison’s response was to put food in her mouth. Lydia started fooling with her hair in the mirror. Isaac had nothing to do, so he stared at his plate and tried to become entranced by his remaining peas.  
“Hi,” came Gina’s tiny voice.  
The group acknowledged her politely except Isaac.  
Gina looked like she wanted to get his attention, but thought against it and just sat down at the end.  
“Why so frosty, Isaac?”  
“Lydia,” Isaac said, “not now.”  
“Oh, are you two fighting?” Lydia’s eyes widened.  
“It’s none of your business.”  
“I told Isaac to stop trying to help me with the Alpha powers because I nearly killed him without trying.”  
Everyone stared at Gina. The way she said it was so straight-forward, she may as well have been telling them the time of day. “And now I know I’m a danger to everyone I care about.”  
Lydia’s mouth was agape as she tried to shake it off.  
“Ask and you shall receive,” Gina looked at her pointedly.  
Everyone sat and ate in silence until the bell rang. Gina was the first to get up and took off like a shot towards the door.  
“That went well,” Scott grimaced.  
“We tried,” Allison faked an encouraging smile.  
***  
The bell ringed at the front counter. Deaton answered, since Scott was busy in the back. “You’re here to pick up the terrier, yes? Duncan is his name?”  
Silence.  
“I’ll be right back, I’ll get Scott to bring him out.”  
“I’m here for something else.”  
Scott froze. It was Gina’s voice.  
“And what might that be?”  
“Scott and Isaac say you’re an emissary. You know about werewolves?”  
Deaton was quiet for a moment. Scott heard him shift where he stood and then go to the door to flip the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’. Deaton took a deep breath. His heart pounded a little harder. “Are you the new one?”  
“The new Alpha. Yeah.”  
“What could I do for you?”  
“Help me not kill people.”  
“That’s a pretty vague request. I’m not sure where to start.”  
“How do I find out who bit me?”  
“There are a few ways, but from what I’m told the police department is working on an assault case and have a few key items they sent to the crime lab a couple days ago. Those results might bring up something fruitful.”  
“Is there a way I can stop being a werewolf?”  
“A few, though none end quite so rosily.”  
“I’m not going to eat wolfsbane, I’m not stupid.”  
“I didn’t say anything about that.”  
“You’re insinuating most of those ways involve suicide, which I’m not planning on doing.”  
Scott marveled how Gina’s voice had changed. Not just her tone, but her certainty, her deliberate delivery. She didn’t hesitate to ask Deaton the hard questions, a man she only guessed she could trust from a few references made by him and Isaac. Otherwise a stranger. She sounded almost cavalier as she asked about the darack and the other wolf doings.  
“You can tell Scott to come out, too. I have a request of him.” Scott shivered. It was like a queen demanding her will be carried to the letter by a lesser. It sounded like Gina was making Deaton her messenger when she should be regarding him as a more sagely character. It set Scott’s teeth on edge. Deaton was the closest thing to a dad he had since his own left to go do whatever the FBI asked. He wondered how much of this Gina was doing consciously. However much she was doing knowingly could indicate how involved she might be. By the way she sounded, she could have killed Deucalion's sister. She could have put up the flyers. She might have even enjoyed it.  
Scott pushed the door open, holding the little Scottish terrier's carrier. He hoped it would keep Gina grounded and prevent her from going Alpha. Deaton hadn’t gotten a chance to spread mountain ash on the counter. Scott wasn’t sure just how volatile Gina was. “What do you want?”he asked.  
“Help.”  
“Isaac already tried.”  
“He couldn’t help me because he’s a Beta.” Gina mulled over her words and started again. “I mean he’s not strong enough. I don’t mean to speak down to him, but I know I can be stubborn. He was so good dealing with me when I was...human, but now he can’t. He wants to help me, and I know I do need help, but he just can’t. I can’t let him get so over his head that I hurt him, and I did and I can’t forgive myself for it…” she started rambling, quickening her breath with nervousness.  
“Woah, woah,” Scott put the dog down and reached out to her. “Slow down. We told Isaac not to and he did anyway. He did it because he cares about you.”  
“I know that! But he almost died doing it. I want someone a little more...qualified.”  
“So you came to ask _my_ help?”  
“You’re an Alpha,” she shrugged. “You can use that Alpha voice. You can do the healing thing. You’re the strongest werewolf that doesn’t or hasn’t killed anyone and if you help me it means I don’t have go to Derek’s. If it is Peter, I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to face him, for training or revenge. I’m not ready.”  
“You’ve put thought into this.”  
“People’s lives depend on it, so yes, I have.”  
“Come by my house later, around nine.”  
“Does your mom know?”  
“Yeah, she’ll understand.”  
“Okay,” Gina nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Scott. I’ll do my absolute hardest - er, try my absolute best to be safe. I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want to be anymore of a werewolf than I can stand.”  
“Being a werewolf isn’t about being violent,” Scott told her. “It’s about being connected, to your pack. To your family. You do what it takes to protect them. You can be a werewolf and be peaceful.”  
Deaton looked on proudly. “Very true, Scott. I suggest though, before you get started that you get acclimated to some of these substances so you know how to identify and avoid them.” He gave Scott a tiny vial of black dust and a slightly larger one full of little blue blossoms.  
“Mountain ash,” Scott said as he held one up to Gina, “cancels out the supernatural, forms a kind of barrier,” and he took the other. “Wolfsbane. Causes hallucinations, if ingested or taken in via bullet-”  
“Bullet?”  
“Argents.”  
“Oh. Werewolf hunters, gotcha.”  
“Via bullet or ingested, it kills you. It prevents you from changing, from healing. You die.”  
Gina nodded in understanding. “Thanks for my dog. Here,” she handed her mom’s credit card to Deaton.  
Deaton ran it and waved her off.  
“Why is my dog afraid of me?”  
“You’re a werewolf, it’s natural they be subservient. But you’re an Alpha. They’re not used to it,” said Deaton. “Animals behave strangely when werewolves are around, more so when Alphas move in and out.”  
“And there’s been a few of those lately,” Scott sighed. “What with you, Deucalion and Peter all about.”  
“Have you heard about this?” Deaton interrupted them, turning the volume of the TV up. “These break-ins that don’t show anything broken or stolen.”  
The TV anchor interviewed someone. It was Danny. He was scared, but he said nothing was taken. A few things had been thrown around and clawed up, but he said everyone was okay. They looked up and Gina was gone, the bell ringing loudly to display her quick exit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the first of two full moons approach, Gina is finding it harder and harder to cope with her new powers. As Isaac tries to help her from afar, the break-ins continue, so Derek forms a watch to try to catch the perpetrator in the act. But Peter has his own idea of dealing with the problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been going through the chapters and putting all thoughts in single quotations. I hope that's been helping comprehension.  
> Also, I feel like even though Allison's played some pretty central roles, we don't know much of her as a character outside the whole family dynamic. I'm not really sure what Jeff's plan is with her character, so I thought maybe before she joined her family of werewolf hunters she liked other things, like comic books? She probably had a lot of time on her hands while her parents were out, and they seem to have moved a lot before coming to Beacon Hills, so I thought why not?

“Gina,” Mrs. Frae knocked on the door. “It’s time for breakfast, get up or you’ll be late for the bus.”  
“I’m busy.”  
Mrs. Frae checked her watch. “What could you possibly be doing this early as to constitute business? Did you stay up all night doing homework?”  
“No, I finished it yesterday like you asked.”  
“Then my first question still stands!”  
Gina paused from inside. “I’m trying to figure something out.”  
“Well can it wait until after school? Your first tryout is today. I bought that expensive jam you like for your toast. Maybe that’ll get you focused?”  
Sounds of a small hurricane emanated from within. “I forgot that was today! Crap!”  
“Well get downstairs,” she said as she removed herself to the kitchen. Inside, Gina’s room looked like a filing cabinet after going through a tornado. There were papers strewn everywhere, her board had taken a new place on the opposite wall, though you would never know it was a bulletin board buried under all the papers. Everything had been tossed aside. Her sheets were in a ball in the corner, her dresser was in disarray. Her desk was covered with the same papers. The same flyers everyone was reading at school. “It’s here,” she kept saying, wide-eyed and desperate from lack of sleep. “It has to be. Everything’s hidden on these papers. It’s just a matter of letting them fall the right way. Seeing the picture…”  
***  
That morning, Derek had asked Scott and Isaac to help him run a watch. The break-ins made everyone nervous, including the werewolves. Mr. Stilinski and Mr. Argent were soon to arrive, bringing Stiles and Allison in tow. There was an uncomfortable silence between the older individuals while the high school students maintained their normalcy.  
“There’s a damn good reason you invited us to your home, Derek,” Mr. Argent crossed his arms.  
“There’s an equally good reason you saw fit to come armed,” Derek met his gaze. “They shouldn’t be necessary. We’re just going to talk; figure things out.”  
“They need our help, dad,” Allison held her father’s hand.  
“It’s an 'all hands on deck' thing,” Stiles added. “This is something else we’re dealing with. We need all the heads.”  
Stiles hadn’t foreseen the grim consequences of his joke and let out his breath all at once. “You guys know what I mean!”  
“We need to keep a watch,” Cora broke in. “There have been break-ins, and we’re lucky no one’s been hurt. It’s a werewolf at work, we know that. We know of a few capable of doing it, and all of them are too much for any small group to handle on their own.”  
“So we’re like the Avengers,” Stiles pointed to each party present. “We’re going to take down Loki?”  
“There are other villains in the Marvel Universe than Loki,” Allison rolled her eyes. Everyone stared in awe. “I can read comic books if I want to,” she huffed. “I’m not a werewolf hunter 24/7 you know.”  
“Finding out who the enemy is is priority number one. Derek’s house is just the neutral zone right now,” Scott finished.  
“Argent,” Derek addressed as nonchalantly as he could. “Did you bring the town map?”  
“I did,” he said, taking it from Allison’s quiver and unrolling it on the nearest table.  
“Our reports say we’ve had break-ins here,” Officer Stilinski noted, “here, here, here, here, and here. We’re likely to see more, considering the random cropping of them. They’re all over. Until the police know if there was anything taken, anything to tie them together, we’re not sure where the next ones will be.”  
“Nothing’s been taken, nothing even broken?” Cora asked to verify.  
“So far as belongings go, that is correct. Laptops, jewelry, cellphones, silverware. All accounted for.”  
“Lydia said that it’s a fear tactic,” Stiles offered. “She said it’s used to convey someone else’s vulnerability. To show that boundaries mean nothing, security can be undermined. That they can get in so easily is the point, not the robbery itself.”  
“Is there a reason she isn’t here?” Stiles dad leaned over.  
“Me, probably.”  
Everyone looked to the stairwell and saw Peter descending. “There’s...history," he continued. "She’s likely not here because of it. But she’ll be called upon if we need her, surely.” He looked straight at Stiles, which made Scott and Allison too uncomfortable. They exchanged glances. “What we have here is someone smart. Cagey, but they know what they’re doing. They go in during the night when everyone is home, but disturb no one. If you’re going for subtlety, you rob someone during the day when they’re at work, but not this one. They have every opportunity to harm people, but they don’t. They don’t take that extra step once they’re inside. They’ve broken the security, sure. They’ve infiltrated the boundaries, fine. But if you’re going to go through those lengths to make your presence known, why not wake people up? Why the secrecy?”  
“Maybe it’s part of the point,” Mr Argent mused. “To let them know this can be done and they’d never know.”  
“Regardless,” Derek finally spoke, “I asked you guys to set up a plan. A town-wide watch. If there’s one of us doing it, we need to know. Sooner rather than later. There’s been a body already, we need to take preventative measures before more turn up.”  
“Has Lydia said anything?” Allison asked Stiles.  
“Why are you asking me?”  
“I dunno, just, has she seen anything? Been turning up in weird places lately?”  
“Not that I know of,” he shrugged.  
“Derek suggested we pair at least one werewolf with each party.” Cora delegated. “For both safety and senses. Mr Argent is the expert on tracking, but combined with our senses and speed, we stand a better chance of success.”  
“And with Stilinski’s police squad,” Derek pointed, “we’ll have the best line of communication. We’ll react faster.”  
“I like this plan,” Stiles smiled. “We’re finally getting ahead.”  
“It’s more like you’re finally moving from the starting line when the gun’s already gone off and the other runner’s gotten a head start,” Peter grumbled. “We’re far from ahead.”  
“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?”  
Officer Stilinski nudged his son to shut up.  
“My terms are this,” Mr Argent said. “We don’t engage. If we’re dealing with an Alpha, which is what Scott believes, then we need to take caution first. Find the paths, then go for the beast.”  
“Hunter’s logic,” Allison replied mechanically.  
“I agree,” Officer Stilinski nodded. “Our firepower wouldn’t be good enough to take one down anyway, what with the whole healing...thing.”  
“It’s just a watch,” Derek reminded the company. “But we need it formed. And we need people to know about it. If this person wants people to be scared, we can’t let them. I say the Sheriff should have full command over the radio and the tactical maneuvers, but we’ll handle it when it comes to the chase.”  
“Obviously without the whole part where we tell them the watch is composed of werewolves,” Stiles mumbled.  
“I want to go with Isaac,” Scott volunteered.  
“I’ll go with him,” Allison volunteered. Her father looked at her suspiciously. “Dad, they need a hunter.”  
He looked mostly unconvinced.  
“I’d like a werewolf at my son’s side, that’s my condition,” said the Sheriff. "I can't say I ever expected to hear that come out of my mouth."  
“Stiles can come with me,” Derek said. “If that makes you feel any better.”  
“Loads,” Stiles cursed under his breath. Derek looked just as unenthused.  
“I’ll go with you, then,” said Mr. Argent.  
“So we’ve got two parties? Is that enough?” asked Cora.  
“Peter,” Scott asked. “Are you coming?”  
Peter looked at the map, withdrawing into his own head as the lines of the streets sprawled out before him. “I wouldn’t be much use to you, I’m not one hundred percent yet.”  
“You’re the other Alpha,” Scott pressed. “You should come. We’ve already said we’re not going to fight. You'd have nothing to worry about.”  
Peter gave the smallest sign of assent. Whether or not he acknowledged Scott's assessment of his character was unknown. Allison, Stiles and Scott all took his reaction into his account and the way they all looked at each other solidified their plans to discuss it later.  
“I’ll go with my niece,” Peter put a hand on Cora's shoulder. “Wherever she’s headed.”  
“I can put my guys around the entrances to the major neighborhoods,” the Sheriff pointed. “We can have radio checkpoints, since we don’t have enough for each person. We’ll try to have them stationed not far from one another so reaction can be quick should we need it.”  
“Hopefully that won’t be necessary,” Scott furrowed his brow.  
“Hopefully,” Mr Argent agreed. “Where should our team start?”  
“I would say fan out from the body,” Stiles’ dad suggested. “The body is likely connected, considering the bite marks. We just haven’t figured out how. Maybe we’ll get lucky and either find evidence of the perp returning to the scene, or we’ll get more clues to how this person travels. Maybe they use the woods as a sort of hideout.”  
“What about downtown?” Stiles pointed. “To get to a lot of neighborhoods, they’d have to pass through it.”  
Everyone nodded in quiet agreement. “We’ll go there,” Derek said. “So far as we know, none of the suspects own vehicles. They’d have to travel via public transit or on foot.”  
“A serial robber taking a bus, you have to admit that’s funny,” Stiles held up his hands. “That mental picture? No one? Really?”  
“Cora and Peter, you stay at the southern end, those houses haven’t been hit yet, and either there’s a reason or it’ll happen soon. Find out which. As for Scott’s team, you guys stick around the school.”  
“It’s settled,” Derek concluded. “We have to start as soon as possible. The full moon is in a few days. The first of two. If this is a werewolf like we think, things are probably going to get much, much worse.”  
“How fast can we begin?” Cora asked.  
“Tonight.”  
“So be it,” Derek shrugged. “We can’t delay, then. This has to start now before the blood starts flowing.”  
***  
At school, the main five were fervently discussing the watch and catching Lydia up. She insisted nothing weird had happened to her, no weird dreams, no sleepwalking. She had had a surprisingly normal time since the defeat of the darack.  
“Maybe you’ve lost your mojo?” Stiles shrugged.  
“Don’t be an idiot,” she rolled her eyes.  
“I don’t like how much Peter hesitated,” Scott crossed his arms.  
“He expects a fight,” Allison said. “He knows he’s not ready. And he doesn’t like it.”  
“Which means he knows more than he lets on,” said Isaac.  
They dispersed, going to their classes and sitting down charged with anxiety.  
“Class,” came the smooth, English accent they had come to instinctually loathe. Deucalion, passing off as an English teacher called Mr. Marx, started class. “Today we are discussing the play MacBeth that I told you to read. Our big themes today are about miscommunication, symbolism and deceit. Does anyone want to begin by commenting on any of these with examples from the book? I hope you’re well prepared.”  
One girl raised her hand. “MacBeth didn’t realize what Macduff was until it was too late. Overconfidence was his downfall.”  
Deucalion waited for her to finish what he thought was an incomplete sentence, but when she just blinked at him, he pointed to another student. His face radiated inward satisfaction, but he was teaching. It was the same face many teachers wore, especially when their students participated.  
“MacBeth let the prophecy get to him so badly he kind of made it happen.”  
“The three witches are kind of at fault though too,” Danny replied. “They told him the prophecy and worded it exactly how it could be misinterpreted.”  
“Ah,” Deucalion smiled. “Now we get to the good part. Is it really the witches fault for wording the truth a specific way? Is the deceit truly on their end? Was that their intention, to miscommunicate to MacBeth, steering him intentionally into facing his own mortality?”  
“Do you think MacBeth would have killed anyone if the witches just told him straight up?” Scott asked, measuring his teacher’s response.  
“I think, Scott,” he said deliberately, “that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy regardless of how it was worded. It was fate dictated; that MacBeth would kill and be defeated was already set in stone. The witches only said it would happen, but it was how the cards fell that made them happen. And on another point,” he rubbed his hands together. “On the topic of deception, we have to look at Shakespeare himself. He wrote Duncan’s character completely contrary to the one king we can possibly look at for Shakespeare’s inspiration.” He eyed Isaac meaningfully, holding his gaze. “Shakespeare’s Duncan and the real Duncan are two very different people. Duncan in the play is supposed to be likable, if not oblivious. Ambitious. But doomed from the start. The perfect tragic character to play Macbeth’s first victim. Duncan as we know him in real life, his name we think having been ‘Donnchad mac Crinain’, was king of Scotland who lived in the years 1001 to 1040. He was described in the historical novel 'MacBeth the King' as a schemer, a kind of Iago, if anyone has read ahead to Othello.”  
Scott saw Isaac grip his chair.  
“Duncan wished to usurp MacBeth because he was afraid. He wasn’t at all the mild-mannered, beloved king as everyone knows him from MacBeth’s titular play. He was a villain. And a damn good one.”  
After that moment, the class fell into a bored lull as Deucalion went over more of the themes, which they did their best to take notes on. But their teacher carried on class as any other teacher would, and they found themselves slipping into the dangers of normalcy.  
“You four,” Deucalion pointed. “I want to see you after class. It’s rather important.”  
They waited until everyone filed out.  
“I’ve been looking into this flyer nonsense,” he said, taking some things from his desk, “and noted something curious I feel you should be aware of.” He placed them side by side across the length of the desk. They were completely transparent. “See anything?”  
They shook their heads.  
“At first, neither did I. It's because they’re fragments,” he explained. “Bits. Meaningless on their own, but together…” he overlaid the sheets that looked like they had tiny smudges on them. Together the smudges formed something distinctive. A shape. A landmark. One they recognized. It was a statue that was in front of town hall of the person who established the town. “I confiscated these from some students earlier this morning and saw what emerged. I took the liberty of making transparencies from the fliers. Whoever is causing these break-ins I keep hearing about might know something about this. Didn’t Daniel, that student, report his was destroyed?”  
“Clawed up,” Scott recounted. “He had held it up. I knew it was familiar, I just couldn’t place it until now.” The image of Danny’s helplessness at the state of his belongings clung to Scott’s memory like a bad smell.  
“Why are you telling us?” Allison asked warily.  
“Why wouldn’t I?” Deucalion retorted. “The remnants of my pack are at stake, and I am doing my best to do just as the Alpha asked. I want to see things change, and it is my intention to ensure that this time, it’s for the better.”  
Allison looked to Scott and Stiles turned to Isaac. “He’s not lying,” Scott said.  
“But I don’t like it,” Isaac said, breathing through his nose.  
“You don’t have to,” Deucalion rapped his claws on the desk. “But take this information and do what you will. The way I see it, you have two options; find the picture to find your murderer, or find the flyers.”  
The bell rang.  
“Good day,” he bid as they left.  
***  
Every day at different times, Gina received the same alarm, but a different number. They were countdowns to the full moon, and she had done everything in her power to get rid of them. She had taken her phone apart and put it back together, cleaning it in the hopes they would stop. She reset all her clocks to military time and then back, hoping they would upset the creepy messages. She had even gone to the Apple store, but for people who called themselves ‘geniuses’ they were surprisingly unhelpful. She could feel differences in her demeanor already. _It’s like I’m pre-menstruating_ , she thought grimly, _except threatening to kill people doesn’t carry the same lightness. I could actually kill someone. I need a back up plan, I can’t solve this and survive the full moon with clean hands. I have to choose. But I can’t! Lives are stake on both things._  
“Gina,” came over the coach of the rowing team. “You ready?”  
She nodded fervently and got into the boat, which was situated in a small pool. It was where they were to practice until they felt ready to try on the one river the town had large enough for their team to use. “Let’s do it.”  
The rowing men climbed in, assuming their oars. They were well-toned in the arms. Their legs looked like ham hocks of muscle anchored to their seats by their sheer weight. Gina tried not to look at them. Not because she was intimidated. But something about them made her hungry. Made her appetites rise. She felt the itch in her gums where she knew her fangs wanted to emerge, but she suppressed it.  
“Okay!” the coach said. “Basic exercise. Let’s get going.”  
Gina noticed Isaac in the bleachers next to her mom. They had come to cheer her on and support her, even though it was just a practice.  
Gina tried to remember all the orders she would have to know as the boys readied themselves. “And,” she said in her strongest voice, “Pull!” She realized her first mistake had come early. It would have been more prudent to order them to push their oars forward before pulling them back, as they’d draw more water that way. If they were in a race, the team would have already started behind. Gina tried to shake it off.  
“Push!” she called. She noticed one of the rowers was slightly off, causing the waves to slosh against each other awkwardly between his wake and the wakes of his peers. “uh, you!”  
“Call their number,” the coach said, unimpressed.  
 _I can’t fail, I can’t fail! I can’t fail!_  
Isaac partially obscured the view with a hand. He made a sideways glance at her parents, who looked uncomfortable. Mr. Frae shifted in his seat, uncrossing his leg and switching it to the other. The leaned-on leg started bumping up and down, drawing the annoyed attention of the parent in front of him.  
From there, the errors seemed to pile like the inevitable falling bricks of a Tetris game, amassing their individual weight into one nearly unbearable mass that flung itself upon Gina.  
 _Come on, Gina, pull yourself together,_ Isaac started to sweat. _Just don’t kill anyone in the process._  
“Starboard four!” she barked, her eyes glowering a deep russet red. “Faster! You’re falling behind!”  
The rowers looking up each gave a start. Starboard four even dropped his oar.  
“Back in line!” Gina ordered. Her rowers obeyed. Gina observed them watchfully as they fell into rhythm. When she so much as tensed up or straightened, the rowers hastened to correct. Gina smiled to herself, satisfied with her success. Meanwhile, Isaac was cringing in his seat, desperately hoping that her parents didn’t notice. Gina gave a look to Isaac, smiling broadly, but then shooting a hand up to cover her mouth in realizing she had pointed canines. Isaac tapped his temple and then to his eye. Gina whipped out a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and switched them on.  
Isaac looked to her parents, who beamed proudly, revelling in their daughter’s glory. It was a tiny, insignificant thing. It didn’t accomplish anything. No one was any closer to finding who had bitten Gina. No one knew anything about the break-ins. No one was any closer to stopping whatever horrible plot was sure to occur on the last day of the month. But it was a victory nonetheless. One that Gina’s family embraced whole-heartedly. They were the parents being too loud in cheering on their daughter at what was only supposed to be a practice. Other people edged away, but Isaac smiled and waved alongside.  
“Look at her go,” Mrs. Frae squealed. “Our little girl, taking authority.”  
“She doesn’t just have a spine now, or tougher skin,” Mr. Frae replied proudly. “She’s got quite a bark too! I didn’t know she had it in her!”  
“Yeah, that’s recent,” Isaac rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.  
“She’s really something, isn’t she?”  
“Deucalion!” Isaac nearly fell out of his seat. Deucalion had his sunglasses on and watched from the edge of the bleachers. He preferred to stand just out of Gina’s line of sight. That struck Isaac as odd.  
“I go by Mr. Marx here, Isaac,” he replied. “I want you to understand that. You’ll blow my cover.”  
“Isaac, who are you talking to?” Mrs. Frae looked over.  
“I’m Isaac’s English teacher, it’s nice to meet you,” Deucalion smiled as he held out his hand. Mrs. Frae hesitated, just for a second, but took it.  
“Do you have Gina in your class?”  
 _She’s interrogating him! Even she knows he’s out of place!_ Isaac held his breath.  
“I used to belong to the rowing team in the town where I grew up,” Deucalion said with the utmost ease. “I wasn’t under the impression this school even had one until recently, and I decided to watch.”  
“Our daughter’s the coxswain,” Mr. Frae said beaming, not bothering to look away from the practice. Gina’s voice cut through the conversation like a knife when she said anything, and Isaac had trouble tuning her out.  
“So she is,” he grinned. “So she is. A difficult job for one who isn’t cut out to lead.”  
“Our daughter’s born to lead,” Mrs. Frae assured with almost a challenge. Isaac doubted how much Mrs. Frae knew, if Gina ever broached the subject; her turning, the werewolves, the murder. But Mrs Frae had her action face on, her ‘lawyer face’ as Gina always described it.  
“I believe it,” Deucalion smiled more broadly. It made Isaac practically blow. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep himself calm and not leap upon Deucalion, who he flanked at only a few feet away.  
The coach blew her whistle and everyone stopped rowing. Gina got a pat on the back and she bounced where she stood in excitement, free of all signs of lycanthropy. “You’ve got a voice there,” the coach remarked. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”  
Gina shrugged. “Just needed coaxing, I guess.”  
As the coach discussed times and dates, Isaac studied Deucalion. “Why the sunglasses?”  
“It’s bright out,” he said simply. “Isn’t that what normal people do to cope with bright sunlight?”  
“But you’re not blind anymore.”  
“And my new eyesight means that I see light now in a clarity and at a brightness in which I’ve not seen it in years. That leaves the eyeballs rather weak,” he said at almost a growl. It was the first time Isaac had seen Deucalion come even close to losing it since they were facing the darack. He quickly recomposed himself. “But it’s getting better. It gets stronger every day,” he resumed his cryptic smile. “My eyesight, that is.”  
Gina grabbed her bag and as she turned on her heel to come talk to her supporters, Isaac turned to see Deucalion gone. Mrs. Frae insisted they all go out for ice cream afterwards.  
“Why did you name your dog Duncan?” he whirled about. The wheels were turning in his head. Deucalion had a reason for looking at him during class. He was pressing something. But was it a part of the game, or part of Deucalion's plan to help them? Nothing was certain.  
“Why do you ask, Isaac?” Gina looked at him thoughtfully. She had kept her distance since she used the Alpha voice on him, but sitting in the back seat together made their proximity unavoidable.  
“We were talking about MacBeth today. He’s the one who MacBeth killed first.”  
“If you actually do the homework,” Mr. Frae said from the driver’s seat, “you’d know that Shakespeare’s Duncan was inspired by a real Scottish king-”  
“Yeah, Donnchad. He was actually a conniving bastard who sought to overthrow MacBeth.”  
“Where did you learn that?”  
“Mr. Marx, our English teacher.”  
“That’s unfortunate,” Mr. Frae said smugly. “If the man did his homework, he’d know that Dunnchad was a wholly benevolent king, taking the throne at a very young age and although accomplishing little in the grand scheme of things, made the lives of his subjects better for not causing any trouble. Our dog, despite being a handful at times, just fits the mark. He’s a Scottish Terrier who does a great job at not making our lives any more stressful.”  
“Michael…” Mrs. Frae chided. “Duncan makes our lives better. He’s a bundle of energy and we love him!”  
“I know, I know. Dunnchad wasn’t at the head of any wars, he didn’t try to expand Scotland. Dunnchad was only depicted in that novel like that because it came out later by some stoned historian-slash-closeted-theatre-minor who was dissatisfied with the original ending and wanted to make a big statement.”  
Gina snickered. “Dad was a history major before he became a defense attorney. He’d give Mr. Marx a piece of his mind.”  
 _And pieces of other things unwillingly if he ever tried anything with Deucalion_ thought Isaac.  
On their way home, Gina passed out from exhaustion. Her sleeplessness and stress from the day had finally caught up with her. She slumped over slightly towards Isaac and her dead weight tugged on the seat belt.  
“Poor thing’s tuckered out,” her dad chuckled as he adjusted the rear view mirror. “Help her out, huh Isaac?”  
Isaac carefully rearranged her so she was leaning on the window. But then she shot up, which nearly gave Isaac a heart attack.  
She shook her head as if shivering and put a hand on her cheek. “The window’s freezing! Did I fall asleep?”  
“Go back to sleep, dear,” Mrs. Frae peered back from the gap between the door and the passenger seat. “You’ve earned it.”  
“Sorry,” Gina whispered to Isaac, giving him the guilty puppy eyes. Isaac melted.  
“It’s really alright, Gina,” he smiled sheepishly. “You don’t need to apologize.”  
“For other stuff too,” she said in so low a voice Isaac was confident only the two of them would hear.  
“We’ll still help you,” he replied in the same tone. “We’ll find a way.” His determination beat out the anxiety caused by his half-lie. He was able to keep his heart from skipping long enough to keep Gina from suspecting until she drifted out of consciousness again. She lolled her head back with a soft thud with her hand resting on the armrest palm up. Isaac took it in his and intertwined his fingers. “We’ll get through it.”  
Gina smiled and squeezed.  
They got back to the Frae house, and Gina’s parents went to work in the study, leaving Gina and Isaac alone. Gina went straight to her room, and Isaac and Duncan followed at her heels.  
“Wait here.”  
“Why?”  
“My room is a mess.”  
“When has that stopped me?”  
“It looks like a warzone and sharknado had a lovechild and it is not pretty in there.”  
“Is there blood in there?” Isaac had asked it kiddingly, but Gina’s face became stony.  
“That’s not funny.”  
“I’ll wait here.”  
Gina opened the door carefully to a halfway point and slipped inside. Isaac heard lots of rustling and moving about. He waited for some time until Gina let him inside. “I didn’t mean it that way.”  
“Considering you are utterly convinced I’ve killed someone, I’m surprised you were so inconsiderate.”  
“You turned in front of all those people at the practice,” Isaac suppressed his anger. “Someone could have seen!”  
“And thought what?” she yawned indifferently. “They wouldn’t know I was a werewolf. Most people don’t believe. I didn’t, and I became one. Even then I doubted.”  
“You took a huge risk,” Isaac crossed his arms. “The full moon’s in four days, I know you’re getting moon-crazy, but you can’t just let it come out like that.”  
“It worked out,” she pouted. “And it’s not like I tried to coax it out. It’s like it came when I wanted it before I knew I needed it. Does that make sense?” she stroked Duncan’s ears, who sat pin-straight at her side facing Isaac. Her other Beta.  
“I guess.”  
“I’ve thought about what you said.”  
“What did I say?”  
“That I need stronger...reinforcements. During the full moon.” Gina stared at the ceiling. Isaac felt her heart beating faster. “I need to contain myself, keep myself from killing...people.”  
It wasn’t something Isaac thought she’d lie about, but it’s something he knew she was terrified just thinking about. He tried to reassure her. “Scott and I are working on it-”  
“No you’re not,” she said flatly. “I heard your heart in the car. I determined from the moment you asked me to sit with you guys that you’re all against me. I can be clueless sometimes, but I am not stupid.”  
Isaac couldn’t reply.  
“Put me in the trunk.”  
“...what?”  
“I said ‘put me in the trunk’.”  
“What trunk?” Isaac’s heart froze, gained twice its original density, and then sank like a stone to the pit of his stomach.  
“You know damn well what trunk. The freezer. That one.”  
Isaac held back agonizing memories of his father locking him in the freezer in his basement. Memories of knocking, banging on the blackness, crying out in vain to be let out. Scratching, punching, fighting his way to see light, to escape. “I can’t let you.”  
“You’ll need chains,” Gina said sullenly. “Heavy stuff to put on top. Chains to bind it up, make sure it doesn’t open.”  
“I can’t let you do it. I can’t let you live through what I did. It’s not fair.”  
“Of course it’s not fair. It’s not about fair,” Gina hit her fist against the bed. If it were a harder surface, her first would have punctured it. "It’s about being safe. I’ve been talking to Scott lately. He's been helping me with my Alpha...ness. I figured it was safer to try to get help from an Alpha than to ask you to put yourself over your head again. Anyway, he told me that a werewolf is most dangerous during the full moon, no matter what rank. He said he nearly killed Stiles during his first moon. As a Beta.”  
“He probably said that to try to comfort you.”  
“It didn’t work,” she grumbled. “That make me more anxious than I already am knowing that I’m even more powerful than him then, after he almost did the unthinkable. Worse still, I have every power already, even when I’m in control of myself, to kill the person I care about most of all, and when the moon hits my powers will be magnified on top of not knowing what the hell I’m doing. That’s terrifying. That’s absolutely gut-punchingly awful.”  
“I don’t think you’d kill your parents. Scott was never at risk-”  
“I’m talking about you, numbskull,” she wiped her sleeve over her eyes. Isaac’s face reddened to match Gina’s changing eyes.  
“You’re controlling it pretty well all things considering.”  
“It’s really...really hard,” she said, her lips twitching to reveal her teeth.  
“What are you feeling right now? Anger? Fear?”  
“General anxiety,” she said in the same voice as normal. “But it’s building up like you wouldn’t believe.”  
“You can’t hold on to it like that,” Isaac shook his head. “It’ll make it worse.”  
“What else am I supposed to do?” she asked coldly. “Your pack has made it clear that I’m not welcome. I’m not about to go off on my own, that’d make me a sitting duck. I can’t just run away and leave town, that’d kill my parents in the figurative sense. Though I can't say it could be much worse than if I stayed and killed them in the literal sense.”  
Isaac’s heart sank even further just as it was recovering from the previous shock. “You’ve actually given it thought?”  
“Damn straight,” she rolled over to face him. “If it means not being in town during the full moon and maybe sparing its inhabitants from my hormone-induced homicidal rampage complete with Freddy Krueger claws, then I’d do it. But I’d have no excuse, and there’s no guarantee that wherever I went I’d stay there, or that I wouldn’t find other people to kill. People I’d have little to no motivation in whatever state I was in to let live.”  
“You’ve given a **lot** of thought to this.”  
“And you didn’t?!”  
“I had Derek helping. And Erica and Boyd.”  
“Well isn’t that nice,” Gina’s voice was saturated with resentment, something Isaac was not accustomed to hearing from her. They sat in silence.  
Isaac’s phone buzzed. 'We’re ready.' It was from Scott.  
'Positions?' Isaac responded.  
'Yeah'.  
“I better go, Scott wants me for something.”  
“I’m sure he does.”  
“Will I see you tomorrow?”  
“One way or another.” She turned over to face away from him. As he stepped out, he nearly slipped on a piece of paper that he recognized. One of those flyers from school.  
Isaac joined the others on his team at the appointed time. Scott and Allison were waiting for him at the school. They had a radio that the Sheriff had lent them, since they were the furthest away from the radio checkpoints. They were using a frequency few other officers were allowed to use with the exception of those on the watch. Officer Stilinski had made it clear that to maintain the clearest line, the fewest possible voices should have access, and that made sense to the police and ensured no suspicion towards Derek or the high schoolers.  
“Should we clear the inside first?” Scott asked his teammates.  
“Maybe,” said Allison. “They wouldn’t be hiding in there, would they?”  
“It’s possible,” said Isaac. “Even if not, let’s go in anyway. I have a hunch.”  
They proceeded inside the dark school at a dreadfully slow pace. The place was deserted and practically oozed creepy. The dim emergency lights that could not be turned off served as the only illumination down the dreary, stark hallways. “I thought so.”  
“What is it, Isaac?” Allison asked with her bow poised at the nearest door. “What do you see?”  
“There’s no one in here,” Scott said. “I don’t hear any heartbeats, no fresh smells. I think we’re okay.”  
“It’s what I don’t see that bothers me.” Isaac pointed to the walls. “There used to be those flyers everywhere. Where did they all go?”  
“They took them down, I guess,” Scott shrugged. “You think they’re significant?”  
“I dunno,” Isaac shrugged pensively. “But I remember seeing these around everywhere. Even after everyone had one and took them home.”  
“They’ve been gone for at least a few days, Isaac,” Scott smirked. “Get your eyes checked.”  
“I’ve kind of been worrying about other stuff, like Deucalion. Did you know he showed up at Gina’s rowing practice?”  
The other two were surprised.  
“Gave some story about being involved at his school back home, but he was watching her. I really didn’t like it.”  
Allison and Scott exchanged a knowing smile.  
“Seriously, when were they taken down?”  
“Dude, they’ve been gone since Monday.”  
“Oh, so right around the same times as the break-ins, right?” Isaac asked for reference.  
“Just about.”  
Allison made a gasp. The two werewolves were ready for action with claws and fangs at the ready. “No no, no one’s here,” she waved them off, removing the arrow and slinging the bow over her shoulder. “It’s just that maybe that’s the key! What if the flyers have something to do with the break-ins? What if the person stopped here, picked these clean, and then moved on to the houses the next day?”  
“Who are you, Stiles?” Scott smiled broadly. Allison giggled, unable to contain her own.  
Isaac rolled his eyes. “That still doesn’t get us any closer to knowing who the robber is.”  
“But it gives us something,” Scott said. “We should tell the others.”  
Allison took the radio and called it in.  
***  
Officer Stilinski’s team had revealed nothing. Derek's team had also come up with a "great fat amount of squat", otherwise known as "also nothing" after Stiles explained himself. There was no suspicious activity that they could see. All was clear. They radio’d Cora and Peter, who were walking the residential area and seeing practically no one with the exception of an old man walking his dog. “This is a waste of time,” Peter groaned, leaning his hands on his hips. “What a crack team we ended up being.”  
“We’re doing the best we can,” said Cora. “Come on, let’s do one more sweep then we can take a break.”  
“I’ll go that way, you go this way?” Peter asked unenthused.  
“Sure.”  
They split down a fork in the road. Cora proceeded with an eye on her uncle until the houses completely blocked her view. When the coast was clear, she let her eyes shine gold, she took out her claws and sniffed the air, trying to pick up any strange scents. She crouched carefully, eliminating singular noises that were distractions - phone calls, buzzing street lights, TVs on in people’s homes.  
Suddenly she looked up and saw a dark figure standing in the street staring back at her. It wore a hoodie that obstructed its face. The only thing distinguishable about this character were its fiery red eyes.  
Cora gave a snarl in challenge. “Peter! I found them! Get over-”  
Blindingly fast, the Alpha had bounded the distance between them and leaped into the air, balling its claws into a fist. Cora missed it by leaning backwards, dodging and blocking the Alpha’s clumsy maneuvers. She swiped at it to try to knock the hood from its face, but it was too fast. Every hit that she landed seemed to do next to nothing, even though she was taller and more honed in training. Derek had ensured that she could hold her own in most situations.  
Peter heard the commotion from the other side of the neighborhood and took off at a jog down someone’s lawn, pinpointing the sound of his niece’s warrior grunts. He leaped over someone’s fence, making their dog bark. He growled in its direction and it went scampering to its house in terror. He tore through bushes and jumped over fences until he found his niece lying in the street badly bruised with scratches all over her. A figure was standing over her.  
“Hey!” Peter called. The figure looked up with wide eyes. Inspecting. “So,” Peter said, circling the figure. “You’re an Alpha.”  
“So are you. But you’re not him,” came a gruff, poorly disguised female voice. “You’re not the one who bit me.”  
“Is my niece dead?”  
“No,” the figure said, poking Cora lightly with its foot. “I wouldn’t kill her. I don’t kill.”  
“That’s not how I hear it,” Peter tested. “I hear you murdered that girl in my own home. My former home. And I don’t appreciate it.”  
“Then you heard wrong,” the figure wiped its mouth. “I had nothing to do with that.”  
“And these break-ins?”  
“Those,” the hood nodded. “Those I will admit to. But it isn’t what it looks like. I’m not in it to hurt anyone, I’ve made sure no one got hurt.”  
“You’ve caused quite a stir though,” Peter calculated that he had three more steps before the hood would be forced to turn. He would be directly behind them, and they would have to change their stance before shifting to put him in their line of sight again. That would be his chance. Quick and simple. He could prove to the company that he was trustworthy enough to place faith in while he could continue his plans on his own time with minimal suspicion. _Then again,_ he thought with playful thoughtfulness as one would consider the pros and cons of which board game to play, _were I to kill this Alpha, I would be immediately feared. No subtlety in that._ His chance arrived, but he deliberately relinquished his shot. He kept walking. _Too obvious. Deucalion flaunted his power. He didn’t play the right game. Too near-sighted despite his cunning. If I got her on our side, she’d be the perfect cover. The perfect scapegoat should any of my plans come to light sooner than I’d like. A nice little package of borrowed time. It would take time of course to keep her well hidden from Derek, and especially Scott._  
“It wasn’t my intention. Those flyers point to something horrible, and I’m trying to find out what before more bodies show up.”  
“It’s quite the game you’re playing,” Peter purred.  
“The feeling is mutual,” the hood snarled, baring its teeth. “You had every opportunity to take me down when you stood behind me and you didn’t take it. I left my back to my enemy, a near criminal sin. Though, I have an advantage, being the first to the battlefield while you had to hasten from afar. I hope you’re not tired.”  
“Someone’s better read than I gave them credit for,” Peter grinned. “Sun Tzu?”  
The hood was silent.  
“Let me take her,” Peter pointed to Cora. “Let me get her to safety. You don’t want anyone dead, it would be a bad move on your part.”  
The radio made a noise, which made the hood give a tiny start. “You have back up?” It sounded nervous.  
“We’re with the police,” Peter sneered, enjoying the rush of power come over him with the assumption of authority. “We’re actually trying to catch you.”  
The figure was contemplating her options. Which way to run.  
“I would head away from Downtown,” Peter suggested. “Our largest force is concentrated that way.”  
“And why would I think to trust your judgment?”  
Peter picked up the radio and held up a finger for her to wait.  
“Cora?” came Derek’s voice. “You guys haven’t checked in. Are you okay?”  
“We’re fine,” Peter said. “Are you all still downtown?” He held up the radio for the figure to listen.  
“Yeah. No sign of them here. Any luck?”  
Cora tried to make a noise, the figure put their foot over her mouth. The glittering red eyes scrutinized every muscle of Peter’s face, trying to detect the moment of betrayal before it happened. Finding any trace of a falsehood that would be the gunshot to signal the runner to begin running.  
“No, not yet. Cora and I have split up to cover more ground.” Peter never broke eye contact with the figure. “We’ll report in a few minutes.”  
“Good. Scott? How about you?”  
“Nothing, but we think we’re on to something. Anything in any reports about the flyers?”  
The figure gave the tiniest twitch. They had made a move to run, but thought against it to listen. Peter knew he had her where he knew she would stay.  
“We’ll have to look into it. What are you thinking, Scott?”  
“All of the houses that were broken into had students that go to school with us. Everyone who took a flyer. Are other students who have flyers the only targets? Is that the pattern?”  
“They’re on to you,” Peter began pacing again, tossing the radio in the air and catching it without looking away. “It’s taken them a while, but they’re closing in.”  
The figure’s breathing intensified. “You’re Peter, aren’t you?”  
“I think I would remember one so crafty and yet so clueless as you, an Alpha especially.”  
“You would know me if you thought you had a use for me.”  
“Then I apologize for the clueless comment. Are you sure we haven’t met?”  
“Don’t follow me,” the figure pointed and took off into the woods on the opposite side of the street. Peter looked down at Cora, who rolled over, barely conscious. He knocked her out, and then carried her to a radio checkpoint.  
“Peter, what’s going on?” demanded Derek on the other line.  
“After we checked in we got jumped!” Peter put on his best performance. They couldn’t hear his heartbeat through a crappy police radio, and the officer present wouldn’t be of the mind or the right strength to listen for a lie. Peter was too good to be detected by someone as basic as a human. The officer was audience. A credible witness. A testament to Peter's good character. Nothing more.  
“By the perp?” asked the Sheriff.  
“I don’t know,” Peter shook his head for emphasis, grabbing at his hair with the other hand for the benefit of the officer to drive home his urgency, and solidify the story. “We didn’t see. Got Cora completely by surprise, by the time I realized what was happening, it was over. Whatever it was was fast.”  
“Is Cora okay?” asked Derek, now very concerned.  
“Yeah, just knocked out. I don’t know if she’ll remember what happened,” Peter licked his lips. “But she’ll pull through. They are Alpha wounds, though.” _Not a lie_.  
“We’ll send more people over.” The Sheriff started pressing buttons whose frequencies came over the channel.  
“Uh, not necessary,” Peter countered. “They’re not here anymore. Heard them take off into the woods. I would have pursued had Cora not been so injured.”  
“Did you see them with anything? Did they take anything?”  
“No, empty-handed. I think we scared her off.”  
“‘Her’?”  
Peter paused. A small snag. “Small figure, female-sounding voice.”  
“She spoke to you?”  
“Not really,” he said more calmly. “More like yelled a war cry and then took off.”  
“We should regroup,” said the Sheriff. “We’ve probably spooked the perp. If they haven’t broken in to anyone’s home by now, they won’t for the rest of the night. We’ll switch shifts.”  
Peter smiled to himself. _I have a few plans of my own._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The full moon is soon, and everyone feels it, especially the newest Alpha. Gina is on the verge of blowing, and it's everything anyone can do to stop her from causing mass chaos. In the mean time, Lydia and Stiles team up to try to get to the bottom of the break-ins and why the mysterious flyers that appeared in school seem to be cropping up everywhere in their investigation.

As Stiles got his keys to head to his car, he passed by his dad’s office. His dad was asleep on his desk with all the file papers spread out haphazardly. Stiles figured he must have stayed up all night trying to monitor the town, even after the watch was disbanded for the night. 'I’ll help him figure this out,' Stiles resolved. 'He can’t do this by himself.'  
He took his dad’s jacket, which had been hanging on the back of the chair but had been knocked to the floor, and draped it over his father’s shoulders. He knew though his dad would be expected at the station, so he started a pot of fresh coffee before walking out the door.  
His drive to school was uneventful, but his arrival at school was borderline chaotic. There were news station vans trying to pull students in for interview, many of which refused, hiding their tear-stained faces. Stiles tried to wade through the confusion and asked people questions, but they mistook him for the reporters hounding them outside and refused. It wasn’t until he regrouped with Scott, Allison and Isaac that he learned what had occurred. “What the hell’s going on?”  
“Another body was found,” Scott said gravely.  
“Did Lydia…?”  
Allison nodded. “The police say the body was dumped, that the murder happened somewhere else.”  
“Any signs of…?” Stiles made chomping motions with his jaws.  
“The body was covered with black blood," Scott sighed.  
“They were tweeting a lot last night,” Isaac was flipping through his phone, “they said they had ‘figured out the flyers’ and that they were going to ‘investigate a hunch’. His last text never had a follow up.”  
“So we know who it is?”  
“A guy named Richie Gansby,” Stiles said.  
“The DJ kid?” Allison asked. “The one who always puts his electronic music on full blast so you can hear it through his headphones?”  
“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed. “Smart kid. To figure it out.”  
“Not smart enough,” Scott shook his head. “He paid for it. We know one thing; the flyers are the key to this. Richie must have found the location of the event the flyers are for.”  
“So whoever’s breaking in knows about the killings?”  
“It could all be a huge publicity stunt,” Isaac shrugged. “You gotta admit, the town can’t think of anything else. The flyers are part of every story.”  
“Murder isn’t publicity,” Allison said. “There’s no better way to get people to _stay away_ from an event than to kill someone who was ready to go.”  
“But we don’t know where the party is yet,” Stiles took on that look he always had when he was postulating with theories. “Richie was dumped, right? He wasn’t murdered where they found him, so the killer was the one who set up the party. But it could even be the same person who bit Gina. This is a game to him. He’s not revealing his plan yet. It was too soon.”  
“Then how do you explain the black blood?” Scott interrupted. “They were bitten, just like the last one. Only, the bite didn’t take.”  
“Failed attempt at turning someone, or just straight up murder?”  
“First one, probably,” Allison had a fist to her chin. “Biting someone to death is an extremely inefficient way to kill someone, even for werewolves. From the one picture that’s going around the news, it doesn’t even look like there were enough bites to cause a fatal wound, let alone exsanguination.”  
“You know, she is really scary when she does that,” Stiles whispered to Scott. Scott just nodded.  
“But why would the killer try to turn this kid? That wouldn’t keep the location a secret,” Isaac asked. “If you want something to remain unknown and someone goes and finds it out, you’d just kill them. If you turned them, they'd still be alive. They could still tell. What's the point?”  
“You're right, Isaac. It doesn’t make any sense,” Allison took it back.  
“I think it’s time we go straight for it,” Stiles said. “The flyers. We need to collect as many flyers as we can to see where this location is.”  
“You can’t be serious!” Allison punched him in the arm. “Look at what happened to Richie! If this killer is an Alpha, and you want to go after what this person clearly doesn’t want us to know, then it’s officially the stupidest idea you’ve had yet.”  
“Besides,” Scott added, “with all these break-ins happening, the more flyers anyone accrues, the more likely a target they become.”  
“Accrues?” Allison looked at him thoughtfully.  
“Word of the day,” Scott gave a small smile.  
“Good word,” she nodded approvingly.  
“Would you two just go back to dating already?” Stiles leaned his head back. “It’s just annoying at this point.”  
Allison and Scott shut their mouths and looked away blushing.  
The bell rang.  
“Have any of you guys seen Lydia or Gina?”  
Everyone shook their heads as they went to their classes.  
English was relatively normal, considering Deucalion was teaching them Othello and being his normal, poignant and creepy self. But he didn’t contribute anything more to the situation. “I’ve been too busy with lesson plans,” he admitted sheepishly. “I haven’t had much time to put into figuring where the pieces are falling. I figured you all would do a bang-up job on your own, especially now that you’ve got a watch configured. I have to say, I’m rather impressed.”  
“How would you know about that?” Scott asked.  
“I was having dinner out and noticed some of your pack with police radios,” Deucalion shrugged. “It’s not a normal occurrence by any means, but suggestive enough.”  
“Where did you go that night?” Isaac pressed.  
“I’m allowed a normal life, aren’t I?” Deucalion sniffed. “One cannot always be a werewolf, an Alpha, a teacher. Surely you and Scott face the same conundrum?”  
They had no choice but to let it go.  
“Why, am I now a suspect?"  
"No," Scott said, staring him right in the face.  
"A bold-faced lie if ever I've seen one," Deucalion became very grave. "We mustn't tell lies, right Scott? It's unbecoming of someone whose leadership depends on trust. Oh and Isaac,” Deucalion called as they were leaving. “Do make sure that girl is alright. Wouldn’t want another lunatic episode, would we?”  
They left the room.  
“He knows about her, he knows about her vulnerabilities, I know it!” Isaac growled. "That whole time he was talking about Duncan he was alluding to Gina! It's him. It's gotta be."  
“We can’t prove it’s him yet,” Allison said glumly.  
“But we know he’s interested,” said Scott. “He’s a factor in this, I’m sure of that. We just don’t know how much.”  
“I’ve got World History with Gina. I’ll tell you guys how she’s doing.”  
“See you, Isaac.”  
“Yeah, see you later.”  
Isaac sat down behind Gina, his normal spot in World History. She didn’t look up when he came in, nor when he said her name. “Gina?” he tapped on her shoulder. She looked up dreamily and then snapped to attention.  
“Sorry, Isaac. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”  
There weren’t other people in the room besides those leaving from their previous class. Mr Sutori was notorious for always holding his students over. Gina was always punctual, early if she could manage.  
“The full moon is the day after tomorrow.”  
“I know. Even if it weren’t for these damn messages, I’d still be hyper aware. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”  
“You won’t kill anyone.”  
“But I could. I could, Isaac, and that’s enough. Weren’t you scared too?”  
“Yeah, I was. But I had Derek. And you have me. Scott will help. He doesn’t want trouble either.”  
“Have you considered my request?”  
Isaac sighed. “Only as a last resort. But I’m going to talk to Derek about it, see if we can hold you somewhere safer.”  
People began to file in one by one. Gina nodded and then stared off into space in the general direction of the blackboard. Her eyes watched the teacher, performing an act, a facade, but Isaac knew her mind wasn’t there. She never raised her hand, not once. In a class in which she excelled. She answered abruptly and without explanation unless prompted. Also unusual. Every sign pointed to being overtired down to her last nerve. It killed Isaac inside to see Gina, his Gina, his best friend, his...to be hurt so badly without a scratch on her. So powerful, but so helpless.  
The teacher put up a problem on the board for the class to work on. Gina worked without so much as turning her head, her hand moving mechanically as if on a wire. Her teacher saw her glazed over look and approached.  
“Gina,” he said softly. “Are you feeling well today?”  
“Just anxious,” she replied distantly.  
“Things at home?”  
“Not to do with family, but yes. Other...stuff.”  
“Do you want to go to the nurse’s? Maybe the new psychologist? I know they're not Ms Morrell, but they'll be just as helpful.”  
“I’ll be okay,” Gina said. “I’m just in a funk.”  
The teacher nodded. Dissatisfied, but ultimately unable to do much else. Isaac put a hand on her shoulder to try to relay some comfort.  
“Isaac, how do you sleep?”  
“Um...I sleep alright, I guess. Some nights are better than others. Why?”  
“I can’t sleep. Not for more than an hour. I have these awful nightmares.”  
“About what?”  
“Watching people die.”  
Isaac’s breath felt cold in his lungs. “Like Richie?”  
“Yeah,” she breathed. “And that girl from before. Maybe I did kill them. Both of them. But I feel like I would remember…”  
“Gina,” Isaac whispered. “Not here. We can’t talk about that here.”  
“But what if I did?” she said too loudly. People turned to her.  
“Yes?” asked the teacher.  
“What if I did do it?” she started hyperventilating. “What if it’s my fault?” her voice grew in fervidity, becoming loud and harried. “They’re dead because of me, Isaac!”  
“I’ll take her to the nurse,” Isaac said quickly. “It’s a dream she had-”  
“But what if it isn’t?!” Gina was at fever-pitch near screaming. She stared wide-eyed at Isaac as a deer would in oncoming headlights. Isaac shuffled her out of the room just as her eyes turned blood red. As her claws came out. He held on to her wrists as he pulled her down the hall. People stared after them as she whimpered and struggled. Away from students, possible casualties. Pulled her out the door, around to the field. She started to cry and dry heave. Gym class was out there, it was too crowded. Down to the edge of the woods at the other side. Isaac pinned her to a tree and hugged her tightly. “Gina, you can’t change here. It’s not safe!”  
“I can’t stop it…” she whimpered. “I can’t keep it in. It just comes out, and it only gets worse the closer it gets to Blue Moon. I’m going to kill someone Isaac, I just know it. I killed someone already. You were right. I’m dangerous. I’m a hazard to everyone I know!”  
“You can control it if you just put your mind to it!” Isaac wrapped his arms around Gina and enveloped the tree behind her, effectively trapping her, and keeping her from running. Putting him in direct way of all her lycanthropic weaponry. He could not have been more exposed. But he trusted Gina. Trusted her more than he trusted himself, despite everything that happened.  
“I’m trying!” she glared, Alpha-red. “I am doing my absolute damndest. It’s still not enough. I’m giving one hundred twenty percent, and still it won’t work.”  
“You’ll get through it,” Isaac leaned his forehead to hers. “We all did. You will, too.”  
“Not much of a consolation, considering there’s a second full moon in two weeks. I’ll be this way again! Maybe even worse!”  
“You can’t think about that,” Isaac pleaded. “Just focus on what’s going on right now.”  
“Isaac…” the look she had was best described as ‘wild’ looking. “I have to tell you something. I’m the one who-”  
“Hey! You!”  
Isaac whirled around, shielding the on-looker from Gina. It was the gym teacher, Mr. Erickson. “Get away from her!” he said angrily as he came down to where they were and forcibly removed Isaac from Gina’s side. She flung herself into the tree, obscuring as much of her wolf features as she could manage. “Miss, was he assaulting you?”  
Gina was still crying, but she shook her head.  
“Well I’m not convinced,” Mr. Erickson had Isaac by the collar of his shirt. “Come on kid, let’s go.”  
“Stop!” Gina said in her Alpha voice. “Let him go.”  
Mr. Erickson was caught off-guard. “He was just-”  
“He’s with me,” she said coldly. It sent a cold shiver down Isaac’s back. Without realizing, Mr. Erikson’s grip loosened.  
“You...know him?”  
“Yes,” Gina put half a fist in her mouth to keep her voice steady. Isaac knew her fangs were out, because he saw her hand dripping blood where they dug in to her skin. “We’re fine. Leave.”  
“Do you two have an open or something?”  
“I just needed a minute,” Gina said with surprisingly measured breath. “I’ll be okay. I swear. Don’t call anyone.”  
Mr. Erickson nodded as he slowly backed away. Isaac wondered if he had seen the blood and was obeying Gina’s command or if he had just reached the ‘Nevermind, I don’t even want to deal with it’ point.  
“Gina, your hand…”  
“It’s fine, Isaac,” she said, rubbing it. There were two deep puncture wounds on the back. “Fortunately, self-inflicted Alpha wounds heal pretty fast.” When she turned to look at him, she looked very fragile. “How do I look. Still wolfish?”  
“No,” Isaac shook his head.” Remarkably ordinary, sans the blood trails on your lip.”  
She shot her hand up to wipe it away, but Isaac got there first with his own. “Let’s get you cleaned up before we walk back in."  
“They’ll know we didn’t make it to the nurse’s office.”  
“Right now, I really don’t care.”  
“But Isaac…”  
“Right now, all I care about is you, Gina.”  
She smiled to herself as they walked back to the school through a different entrance. They made a beeline for the nearest bathroom.  
***  
Stiles finally had an Economics class with Lydia. He asked her where she was. “Had a free period this morning,” she shrugged.  
“Did you find Richie last night?”  
“What if I did?” she asked coolly. “It’s not like this is the first time.”  
“Where did you see him?” asked Stiles. “Where they found him, or somewhere different?”  
Lydia thought hard for a moment. “He had a flyer. He wasn’t dead yet. He was talking to someone, but I don’t know who. There was red, just a little, and then red everywhere. It was…” she cringed to put the thought out of her mind like one stops soap from getting into your eyes.  
“Lydia, these flyers are the key,” Stiles whispered.  
“What does an advertisement for some party have anything to do with anything?”  
“They have everything to do with everything!” Stiles whispered too shrilly. They garnered looks from other students. “Economics, after all,” Stiles stumbled through his words, “is such a...pervasive...subject.”  
Lydia rolled her eyes and turned around in her seat. They waited until everyone was disinterested. “So what do you propose we do?”  
“We collect them. They’re integral to solving this puzzle, these murders. Finding the point of the game Gina’s been pulled into, that we’ve all been pulled into.”  
“Has it occurred to you that acquiring these flyers makes us bigger targets?”  
“Yes, actually,” Stiles was slightly offended at this attack on his cunning. “But we don’t have much of an option. We need to either draw out this robber and ask them directly, or beat them to the punch and find the hidden message or whatever. That's what Deucalion said, and we know he knows more about this than he lets on." "And you're going to trust him on this one? How do you know he's not *the* one involved in all this?" "Either way, the flyers are the main objective.”  
“And you need me to help you, naturally,” she gave a quick nod to flip her perfect strawberry hair behind her ear, wafting her perfume in Stiles’ direction.  
“Well...yeah. Though I can understand if you thought it was too dangerous.”  
“Was I refusing?” she turned around and narrowed her eyes at Stiles. “Were those the words that I said?”  
“Uh...no,” Stiles was confused.  
“Then it’s settled.” She gave one of her triumphant smiles and turned around. Stiles silently pumped his fist under his desk, bumping it loudly and upsetting the papers on its face. One drifted gently to the floor.  
***  
Melissa McCall was at work, but as she kept passing the elevator, a thought bore deeper in her mind. Scott had warned her of what was going on, and had reassured her that all the possible forces went into the watch to prevent more bloodshed. But that boy, that student. He was a stark reminder of the kind of damage that kind of beast could inflict. And yet there was something else. Something different.  
She bustled about, checking her charts, checking up on patients, making sure everything was in order. But as she did her work, which she knew she could do with only half a mind concentrating, the other half of her kept drifting to the morgue. Something didn’t settle with her. Scott had mentioned Gina as the new threat, but that couldn’t be right. It just couldn’t. Ms McCall was not one to let things lie.  
As she went on to her break, she decided to visit the morgue and get the coroner’s opinion. Ms Rowin was busy with an autopsy, which made Ms McCall pause at the door.  
“The only one you’re bothering is me,” said Ms Rowin. “And it’s not really ‘bothering’ so much as ‘mercifully disturbing’." She was wearing a visor that prevented splattering fluids from streaking her face or obscuring her vision. She lifted it up and wiped her filthy latex glove on her almost-as-filthy apron.  
“I wanted to look at the body from a week ago. The one with bite marks.”  
“Which, the girl or the boy?”  
“The girl.”  
“Out of curiosity, why?”  
“It’s just that,” Ms McCall said. “Curiosity. Something didn’t run with me about the wounds.”  
“Finally,” Ms Rowan sighed in relief. “My thoughts exactly. My reports are inconsistent with the findings even after tweaking. It just doesn’t add up.”  
She walked over to a drawer in the wall and pulled it out. She unzipped the zipper to the large, black body bag and beckoned Scott’s mom over. “There are bite marks, surely. Enough to make one believe that a vicious dog attacked and killed this woman,” she ran her finger over all the teeth marks in the various places along the woman’s body. “Her throat is even slashed. But the blood is wrong.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I...think these were inflicted post mortem. After she died. Hmm,” Ms Rowan withdrew her hand to pull back the bag even further. “I didn’t see those there before...help me get her onto the other table.”  
They carried the girl, small in stature but dense with dead weight onto the spare rolling table. The autopsy technician pulled the swivel light over. “Look at these. These weren’t there before.”  
“Bruises take a while to appear after death, right?”  
“Right. These weren’t here during my initial findings.” Ms Rowin strode over to her desk, picked through some folders and then brought one over with a pen in her mouth. She started scribbling furiously. “This changes things quite a bit.”  
“So how do you know the bite marks were made after she died?”  
“When a bite is inflicted perimortem, during death, the blood shouldn’t look this color. There shouldn’t be much discoloration at all, certainly not to this degree. It means the blood was already not flowing when the punctures were made. What’s even weirder is the bite marks themselves. They’re semicircular, like a person’s. I don’t know any dog that could inflict anything in this shape, certainly no small dog that could would be big enough. But the depth isn’t consistent with a person’s, these two punctures,” she gestured to where the fangs had gone in, “are deeper than the rest. Like...canines.”  
“Was that...intentional?” McCall wasn’t sure how to react. She certainly couldn’t tell the truth.  
“One helluva cover up, I’d say,” Rowin concluded. “Trying to pit it with the animal attacks we had last year. Could have been done with those realistic dentures people by for werewolf fetishes, you know?”  
McCall shivered for reasons Ms Rowin couldn’t possibly know.  
“But these bruises,” Rowin continued with the body. “They look consistent with someone holding her down and then strangling her. There are five points on her neck, right next to the windpipe,” she noted. “One here below the sternum. To restrain them.”  
“So what’s the cause of death?”  
“My previous thought was slashed throat, all the evidence I had at the time pointed to it.”  
They both looked at her gaping trachea, exposed to open air through a gratuitously large wound. “Now I’m not so sure.”  
“Anything with her eyes? Any signs of petechiae? Any hemorrhaging?”  
“I hadn’t thought to look, there were no bruises formed then. Let’s see…” she carefully lifted the woman’s lids. “Some faded signs, but I’ll need to add that. It took a lot of force to keep this woman down and to strangle her to death. A lot of malice to then slash her throat and on top of that do all this to her. This changes things quite a bit.”  
 _Yes,_ thought Scott’s mom as she took out her phone. _Yes, it does._  
***  
“That’s weird,” said Scott as they met up again for the watch.  
“What?” said Isaac.  
“My mom just texted me. It’s about the first body.”  
“What about it?” asked Allison.  
“She said the bites were given after the body was dead.”  
“That complicates our theory,” Allison bit her lip.  
“About Gina killing Deucalion’s sister to become an Alpha?” Isaac said unenthused.  
“You should feel better then, it looks like she didn’t do it,” Scott said. “Mom says that the coroner told her that it took an enormous amount of force to hold this person down to kill them, and then they bit them. All over. Doesn’t sound like something Gina could do, according to her.”  
“But I’ve witnessed what she can do,” said Isaac. “As much as I want to believe that, she nearly strangled me. And that’s when she **wasn’t** trying.”  
“Let’s just be prepared,” said Allison, drawing an arrow to her bow. “Hopefully we won’t see much action tonight.” The watch had shifted some of their positions in a rotation. Stiles got permission to deviate with Lydia when he presented his hunch to the group. The plan was to knock on doors and see if they could acquire the flyers as a method to draw the robber away from people’s homes. After Lydia did the explaining, Stiles left notes on the back doors, the windows on small sticky notes that were easy to miss, but easy to find, Stiles hoped, for the robber. The notes each said ‘No flyer here! Got them first. On to you. Let these people be.’  
“Do you really think we’re on to something, Stiles?” Lydia said as they got back in the car. “These flyers don’t look like much.”  
“They’re super important, I’m sure of it.”  
“Two hours of work for what, a squiggle?” she waved one angrily. “A line? Two letters?”  
“What do the letters say?”  
“‘ND’,” she pronounced unsatisfied. “Pure gold.”  
“These are just pieces, we’ll need more to get the big picture. Richie was on to something. I did some digging, and he was sharing pictures of the flyers with his friends so they didn’t have to keep any. Kept them away from the robber, none of them were robbed.”  
“So maybe the robber has a Twitter?” Lydia asked sarcastically.  
“But actually though!” Stiles postulated, flailing his hand as they drove in revelation. “They were spared.”  
“Not really, considering Richie’s dead. I saw it happen. Believe me, he wasn’t ‘spared’.”  
“The point, Lydia,” Stiles huffed, “is that they had access to a lot of the flyers. They put it together.”  
“And look where that got them, Stiles.”  
“Did I not tell you it was dangerous?”  
“You never mentioned how stupid it was,” she crossed her arms.  
Stiles’ phone buzzed. Lydia picked it up and scrolled through it. “It’s Scott. He says Gina might be innocent.”  
“Of what, the murder of Richie, the murder of Deucalion’s sister, or the near-murder of Isaac?”  
“Deucalion’s sister. He said his mom asked the coroner and there were doubts. He said the bites were made ‘post boredom’, but he probably meant ‘postmortem’.”  
“So the bites came after death?”  
“That’s what Scott’s mom said.”  
They were silent, thinking things through.  
The next house they got to was Gina’s. They looked at each other. “Do you still want to do this?”  
“Considering the alternative is find another body?” Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding?”  
“Right, what was I thinking,” mumbled Stiles. “Do we know if Gina’s even home?”  
“Let’s ask,” Lydia got out of the car and strode up to the door before Stiles could decide how to react. 'If she wasn’t so damn headstrong...' he thought as he caught up to her just as the door swung open.  
Mr. Frae was surprised to see them. “Are you...looking for Gina by any chance?”  
“Is she home? Lydia asked sweetly. “She told us to meet her here after school, but we got caught up and were late.”  
Stiles was impressed with how quickly the lie came out.  
Mr. Frae looked confused. “Actually, she isn’t home at the moment. I’m not sure when she’ll be back, probably soon. She’s taken a habit of going for walks at about now, she’s got a lot on her plate. Been looking at colleges this week.”  
They walked in. The home was impeccable. Everything in its place, all was neat and clean. The smell of a baked dinner wafted through the air. A small Scottish terrier came bounding in to greet them with happy barks. “You are so obedient when Gina’s home, but as soon as she leaves, you’re just back to your rambunctious self, aren’t you ya little scamp?”  
Lydia and Stiles exchanged a glance.  
“Who’s there, Michael?” came Gina’s mom’s voice from the kitchen.  
“Two of Gina’s friends,” he called back. “I’m sorry, your names are…?”  
“Lydia Martin,” Lydia held out her hand demurely, but swiftly.  
“Stiles. Sheriff’s son,” Stiles offered.  
“From school?” called Mrs. Frae.  
“Yes,” Mr. Frae replied. “They said Gina would meet them, but the poor thing’s so overstressed she forgot. Should I have them wait here?”  
“Would you mind waiting for her down here?” Mr. Frae said. “She’ll see you first thing when she comes back.”  
 _Assuming she uses the door,_ thought Stiles. _It might not be coincidence she happens to be out when we think the robber is around. I wonder if Lydia’s reached the same conclusion. The only way to find out is to get into Gina’s room._  
“Excuse me, Mr. Frae?” Lydia batted her eyelashes. “Is it alright if I use your bathroom?”  
“Use the one upstairs,” he pointed kindly. “First door on the left.”  
“Thank you,” she gave a small curtsy and walked up the stairs.  
 _Damn, she’s good._ Stiles drummed his fingers on the table. He looked around for an excuse to join her. He needed to get into Gina’s room! If there was evidence, it would start pulling things together. If Gina knew anything, anything at all about the flyers, then they could get one step closer to stopping whoever it was who was planning something on the last day of the month. But there was one problem. They had to do it before Gina got home. According to Isaac, her powers were only being marginally controlled. She came close to attacking a teacher. Nearly exposed her condition to her World History class. Stiles remembered dealing with Scott during a similar time. He had made out with Lydia, nearly exposed himself on the lacrosse field, and had practically killed Stiles. Stiles had little confidence in someone he only wanted to trust, and most of what he had was for Isaac’s sake.  
“Care for something to drink?” Mr. Frae asked from the other room.  
“Sure,” replied Stiles.  
“I’ll get something for Lydia, too.” Mr. Frae came from the kitchen with two glasses of water. Stiles picked up one but tipped it to drip all over his shirt. Mr. Frae was embarrassed and went into the kitchen. “Molly?”  
“It’s fine,” said Stiles. “I’ll get a towel.”  
“What about the dish cloths?” Gina’s dad asked her mom.  
“They’re filthy! Are you kidding?” Gina’s mom replied.  
“They’re upstairs in the linen closet,” Gina’s dad gestured. “Are you sure you’re alright?”  
“Fine,” Stiles shifted awkwardly towards the stairs. “Water doesn’t stain. It’s fine.” _Thank God for germaphobes_ he thought graciously.  
He got up the stairs to find Gina’s door open. He gently pushed it wider and entered. Lydia was pacing about an arrangement already made on the floor. Another arrangement cluttered the entire far wall, and another smaller one on the desk.  
“What took you so long?” Lydia spat.  
Stiles gave her a look.  
“Well we know one thing,” Lydia crossed her arms. “Gina sure has a lot of flyers.”  
Flyers were plastered on every viable surface in the room; on the dresser, on the floor, all over the walls, on the desk and even some on the corner of the bed.  
“She could have printed them from the Internet, from the people who posted them on Twitter and Facebook.”  
“No,” Lydia shook her head haughtily as she tapped one with her foot. “This one has pencil marks, looks like someone’s number. This one has a doodle in red pen. These belonged to people. They have personal touches on them; handwriting, scheduling, bits from other pages. Not the marks of papers that were photocopied or printed.”  
“You think she’s the robber?”  
"She has to be.”  
The door closed downstairs, and there was barking, but the two were too engrossed to notice.  
“She has them configured in different parts,” Stiles traced the harsh outlines that ran along the borders of the piles. “Definitive pieces, more than we got.”  
“She’s gotten quite the head start, Stiles,” Lydia reminded.  
There were footsteps up the stairs. These they heard. They paused, too scared to move.  
“What are you two doing in my room?”  
It was too late. Gina stood in the doorway, looking haggard in a green hoodie and gray sweatpants. Her claws were out. Her eyes glared Alpha-red at them.  
“Uh,” Stiles moved to obscure some of the flyers, and moved closer to Lydia.  
“We know what you’ve been doing,” Lydia said bravely.  
“Is that so?” Gina said menacingly. She gave a small, devilish smirk that set Stiles on edge. Her teeth, those sharp, dagger fangs, were ready.  
“We’re going to stop you.”  
“With what, your little watch?” she grinned. “They haven’t caught me yet, with the exception of that other Alpha.”  
“Scott?”  
“No, Peter,” Gina’s smirk disappeared. “I’d be careful around him if I were you.”  
“Did you recognize him?” asked Lydia. “Was he the one who bit you?”  
 _Distracting her, good idea,_ Stiles thought quickly, _except even if we made a break for the door, she’d still kill us._  
“No,” she shook her head. “I know the face of the one who bit me,” she snarled. A low growl ripped from her throat. “And that silky voice. It wasn’t him.”  
“We can help you…” said Stiles, holding out his hand in a gesture he hoped would convey passivity. “We can help you figure out who did this to you.”  
“I expect you will,” she smiled in that devious way that made Stiles cringe. “In fact, I was going to seek you out, but it turns out you walked right into my plans already. May as well proceed.”  
Stiles gulped as Gina neared him.  
“Don’t hurt him!” Lydia breathed hard. “Hurt him or I’ll scream.”  
“Ah, Banshee,” Gina pointed. “Right. Isaac told me, and what he didn’t say, the Internet elaborated. No, if I wanted to do anything to Stiles, believe me, I’d have done it already, and there wouldn’t have been time for you to scream.”  
Lydia was quiet. Stiles was almost ready to piss himself. Gina stood two feet from him.  
“Stiles,” she said in a flat tone. “If you would.”  
“Never,” Stiles shook his head. “I’m not letting you hurt anyone else.”  
“Don’t be an idiot,” Gina said. “Move. I need something on the shelf and you're clearly not going to do the convenient thing and get it for me.”  
Stiles was baffled. “You’re not going to kill me?”  
“I said I needed your help, didn’t I?” said Gina annoyed as she pulled a board game off a shelf behind Stiles. "Killing you is counter-productive."  
“ _Stratego?_ ”  
“Isaac and I used to play this all the time,” Gina said. “It helps me think.”  
“What about the flyers?” asked Lydia, looking to Stiles for assurance that they were going to live long enough to survive the conversation. Stiles shrugged, at a loss to do much else.  
“That’s what I need your help for,” Gina furrowed her brow, ignoring the fact she was still in Alpha mode. She deftly moved all the pieces to their places on her side of the board. She left the other side scattered. It was up to her opponent to arrange them, to form their own strategy.  
“Army men?” Stiles picked one up.  
“We lost a few pieces” Gina snatched it from his hand and slammed it down on the board. Stiles took a step back.  
“Tell us what you know, Gina,” Lydia said as one would ask a tantruming child, but making sure to phrase it carefully. One wrong move and Gina was within an arm’s reach of slashing both of them, with possibly fatal consequences.  
“As you’ve figured out, I’m the one breaking in to people’s houses.” The way Gina put it was so casual. It unnerved them both.  
“For the flyers,” Stiles verified.  
“Yes,” Gina affirmed. “But what you don’t know is that I’m the one who put them out. Isaac told me that Lydia’s done stuff like that during a trance-like state according to Peter’s will. The Alpha who bit her. Scott told me that Peter’s made him do weird stuff that he was only marginally aware of, like nearly killing you guys at the school a year or so ago.”  
“Isaac told you this?”  
“Scott told me most of it,” Gina said, finishing her work on the board. “He's helped me train. I told Isaac that I didn’t know how I got glue on my hands. He didn’t tell me much. Scott told me it’s possible that I’m being controlled by the Alpha who turned me.”  
“Which isn’t Peter?” asked Lydia again.  
“I’m nearly one hundred percent positive, but that doesn’t matter right now.”  
“Yeah, it kind of does!” exclaimed Stiles.  
“No, it doesn’t,” Gina snarled. _Stiles shut up!_ he thought, terrified. “Not right now," she elaborated. "What matters is what he’s up to. And I’m going to stop it. By texting me all those things and by setting all the alarms and notifications, he gave me a complete timeline of his plans. He probably thought it would scare me into submission, get me curious enough, or stupid enough, to try to help him. I did consider it, but also taking into account what Isaac and Scott told me, Alphas have been up to only no good around here. I thought better of it. But that hasn’t stopped him from trying to use me anyway.”  
She gestured Lydia to sit opposite her as her Stratego opponent. Lydia did so hesitantly. “So the Alpha asked you to put up the flyers because the flyers have everything to do with the plan?”  
“Exactly,” Gina put a fist to her chin in concentration. “But when I realized that, I was afraid that whoever figured out the puzzle that was clearly encoded in these papers was at risk of triggering the trap. I’ve been trying to get rid of the flyers from people’s homes so that no one would go to wherever it was telling them to go. But it got too out of hand. People posted them online. I’ve tried flagging them, trying to get them taken down, but it was too late.”  
“Richie…” said Lydia.  
“Richie figured it out. I was following him on Twitter, and fortunately he didn’t tell anyone else - for once I have hubris to thank - but someone’s going to follow in his footsteps, and they’re going to end up dead, too. It’s a matter of time.”  
“I told you the robber had a Twitter," Stiles whispered triumphantly. Lydia gave him a death stare. "So you didn’t kill Richie?”  
“I don’t know,” Gina shook her head. “But I was there. I might have been under a trance again, but I know how he died before the news did. When I told Isaac, he made a face, and I know his face well enough to draw it with my eyes gouged out. It said that he knew something was up with that, but he wouldn’t tell me. I put two and two together.”  
“If I wasn’t separated from an Alpha only by a flimsy board game, I’d think that was adorable,” Lydia said, curling her lips inward.  
“There was something different about Richie than about Deucalion’s sister though,” Stiles pursued. “The first body had tons of bite marks, enough to have killed her if she wasn’t strangled first. The second had a non-fatal bite that caused death. It’s like that person was bitten to be turned. Do you know anything about that?”  
“The bite didn’t take and he died. That’s all I know.”  
“But in the trance, did you hear anything?" Stiles pressed. "A conversation, something to indicate why Richie was going to be turned?”  
“He figured out the puzzle,” Gina said. “He’s faster than me, clearly cleverer. From what I know about him at school, he’s incredibly intelligent…was. If I was bitten and turned into an Alpha - which everyone tells me is really weird and unusual - then what would have happened, I wonder, if Richie got turned?”  
All three of them groaned at the thought.  
“So this Alpha wants to build an army, and the flyers are the test?”  
“It’s possible.”  
“But what about what’s on the flyers?” Lydia pressed.  
“I’ve gotten three big pieces down,” Gina pointed without looking up from her game. “But I have yet to figure out how they fit.”  
“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” Stiles shook his head. “Stratego? Why not chess, checkers...Candyland?”  
“With chess you see the pieces of the opposite player. You can unravel their methods, because you know the ranks of all the available players…” Gina said distantly. “All the pieces have permanent places, and the strategy comes after, but with Stratego you can place the pieces however you want, telegraphing nothing. No positions, no ranks. All looks the same until a piece is approached. You can break down someone’s strategy before they even play it with Chess. Imagine the counters. The stops. Calculate sacrifices, think ten steps ahead. That’s not the kind of game this Alpha’s been playing. It’s been more like Stratego; you can’t see your opponent’s players until you trigger an attack. You can lay traps, create false starts and incite fatal moves with so much as a small gesture." She picked up a piece and put it back down. Lydia took a piece and attacked it. Gina flipped it over, revealing a bomb. She took Lydia’s piece. “Bombs don’t move, but you can fake people into thinking you’ll move it, convincing them it’s not a bomb.”  
“It’s a memory game _and_ a battle of wits,” Lydia surmised, taking three of Gina’s pieces in a row. “You play a mixture of short-term and long-term goals adding to a total victory. You capture the flag in this one, right?”   
“But you don’t know where the flag is,” Gina said. “The board is configured by the player. You can play a different game every time. Not quite so much with chess. Stratego's a difficult game, because you must worm out someone’s strategies by playing into it, and then when you think you know it, only then can you form your counter-attack with whatever you've got left. It’s a game of strategy, wits, memory and impulse. Your two best players are both the weakest and strongest. The ten kills anyone but bombs. Bombs can be disarmed by threes. The spy is the only thing that can kill a ten besides a bomb, but a spy can move around while a bomb cannot. A spy can be killed by anyone, and any number can be killed by higher numbers. In short, no piece on this board is useless, not even the twos, which are pawns. Twos can kill spies, so they aren’t even technically the weakest. Every piece is important. Every sacrifice has weight.”  
“You’ve played this game a lot,” remarked Stiles.  
“It was Isaac and my preference for long summer days when we were younger. A game that could take so long he’d have an excuse not to go home.”  
Stiles and Lydia exchanged another glance. “Let Lydia and I look at this for a while.”  
“Go ahead.”  
Lydia took every step like she was treading around bomb pieces, trying not to incite Gina’s attention as she made her way towards Stiles. They hovered over each cluster of papers, trying to coax out the secrets.  
“Rargh!” Gina cried out with a roar as she smashed the board against the wall, scattering the pieces everywhere. Lydia and Stiles staggered back in shock. Stiles put a protective hand across Lydia and she clung to it.  
“Gina?” called her mom. “Is everything alright?”  
“Fine, mom!” Gina called down, her teeth bared. “It’s fine,” she said more quietly, clicking the tips of her claws together; aware once more of her condition. “I’m just easily frustrated these days. It being the full moon so soon really isn’t helping.”  
“Should we...leave?” Stiles was more asking for confirmation that they were leaving than asking permission.  
“That would probably be best,” she nodded, clenching and unclenching her fists. “Don’t leave before taking pictures first. Take evidence of what I’ve done. Continue where I can’t. The way I see it, I’ll be indisposed for the entirety of the full moon, and probably completely unable to focus for all of tomorrow. Just...if you could, Stiles” she looked worriedly at him, “not to your dad. I can’t be in jail, that is like, the worst idea for someone like me. Especially if someone else is in that holding cell. They’re as good as dead if you take me in.”  
“I can’t just keep it from him, he set up the watch. We defer to him.”  
“Just...I guess…” she struggled for the words. “Just try to get him to understand, then. I’m not a bad person, at least I really try not to be. I just did it to get people from getting hurt. And I failed. And I’m sorry.”  
Lydia took pictures with her phone as Stiles ushered them out.  
“Did you meet up with Gina?” asked Mrs. Frae as they hastened towards the door.  
“Yep,” said Lydia, pale as a ghost. “All set. Goodnight!”  
“Goodnight!” called Mrs. Frae as they ran to the jeep. Gina was watching them from her window as they drove off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of two full moons has arrived. Now that the robber has been determined, the group moves to act. But nothing has been simple so far. They now know Gina is not the killer, and they're right on the cusp of discovering who is. But what will that mean for Gina? What will that mean for everyone? How to even proceed when everywhere you step could be a bombshell?

Stiles sat in his room with both his hands on his face, peering through the gaps in his fingers at the pictures on his computer. The computer light served as the only light in his room, because everything else was darkness. The flyers were sprawled out on the screen as they were in Gina’s room. The damning evidence.  
Scott knocked and then walked in.  
“I’m glad you’re here,” Stiles said solemnly. “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news.”  
“Let’s hear it,” Scott pulled up the one other chair in the room.  
“The good news is that we know who the robber is,” Stiles pointed to the computer. “They were collecting the flyers after all.”  
“And the bad news?”  
“Knowing makes everything worse,” Stiles grimaced. “And doesn’t actually get us any closer to the killer.”  
“Who’s the robber?”  
“One guess.”  
“Gina?”  
“Bingo.” Stiles took little satisfaction with his find. “I have to tell my Dad. It’s why we amassed the watch.”  
“But she’s not the killer. I trained her, I know she's getting more control. I even looked into her memories. I don't think she killed _anyone_.”  
“No, she isn’t." Stiles agreed. "But she told Lydia and me that she thinks she was ordered to put the flyers up. She’s sure that the killer, this Alpha who may or may not be Deucalion, wants them to be found, and shared. She wanted to steal back the flyers so no one would figure out the plan.”  
“So not Peter?"  
"We asked. Evidently they met during the watch and talked to each other. She said she's sure it isn't him. I don't like where it leaves us."  
"So it’s a trap.”  
“Majorly so.”  
“Your dad can’t lock her up! Does he know what’s going to happen as of tonight?”  
“I know that!” Stiles spat. “It’s why I’ve kept it from him. But I can’t keep doing that. I have to tell him sooner or later.”  
“If he puts Gina in a cell, everyone else in there is dead,” Scott put a hand to his forehead.  
“I know, Gina said it herself.”  
“Isaac said she requested to be locked in the freezer.”  
“Then she’s either extremely brave or batshit crazy.”  
“A good deal of both, I think.”  
“But if she gets taken in, she won’t have that.”  
“No, she won’t.”  
“Scott, what do I do?” Stiles looked at him pleadingly. He was out of answers.  
“We should tell everyone," Scott said with certainty. "Tell them everything. We'll make the judgment together; werewolves and humans. I know your Dad wants to do the right thing, but he’s a recent convert to being able to see all the supernatural stuff. He still isn’t ready to look at the big picture. He might be a little jaded towards the supernatural after being locked in a root cellar.”  
Stiles nodded. “You know, sometimes you’re not an idiot, Scott.”  
“Thanks, Stiles,” Scott replied sarcastically. “Let’s gather them, I guess.”  
An hour later, everyone was gathered at Derek’s house. His driveway was now a parking lot.  
“Why are we here at this hour?” Mr. Argent demanded sleepily.  
“We know who the robber is,” said Stiles. He placed the printed-out pictures in the middle of the table. “Lydia and I did some digging during the watch last night and we know who did it. These are the flyers that keep going missing.”  
“Fantastic,” the Sheriff clenched his fist triumphantly. “We can tell the town that they don’t need to lock their doors. Good job, Stiles.”  
“It’s not that simple though,” said Stiles painfully. “The robber isn’t also the killer.”  
Scott picked up where Stiles left off. “My mom was suspicious of the bodies, so she consulted the coroner at the hospital. She found that the first one, Deucalion’s sister, had bite marks that were given after the body was already dead.” He passed his phone around with the images his mother sent, as well as the conversation.  
“So the first is a cover up?” asked Derek.  
“It looks that way,” mused Cora as she skimmed the texts.  
“The second death had the same ‘bite radius’ as the bite marks on Deucalion’s sister, but Mom said there was only one bite and it was in a non-fatal area.”  
“So Richie wasn’t killed, he was selected?” asked Allison.  
“The bite could have been administered as a way to select him,” postulated Isaac. “Gina is of the mind he was about to be recruited as Boyd, Erica and I were. But he didn’t make it.”  
Derek had a pang of a memory of Paige, but shirked it off.  
“So is Gina the robber?” asked Allison, seeing how much it troubled Scott and Stiles to get to the point.  
“Yeah,” said Scott, taking no pride in the reveal. “These were taken in her house.”  
“I have to take her in,” the Sheriff shook his head. “She confessed. We have evidence taken in her own home.”  
“You can’t though, Dad!” Stiles defended. “We obtained this without a warrant, but more importantly, tonight’s the blue moon. She turns tonight. She’ll be more dangerous than at any other time. You have to wait!”  
“Stiles, the entire town has been breathing down my neck to catch this person. People have been living in fear of going home, of being out at night, because Gina was on a little escapade collecting flyers!”  
“She was doing it because the flyers lead to a trap!” Stiles slammed his fist on the table. “Whoever bit her is trying to arrange it, and the flyers point straight to it.”  
“Richie figured it out,” Isaac concluded. “He found out too early and got killed.”  
“Got tested,” Allison corrected. “He was smart enough to figure out the riddle, so he was tested. The Alpha wanted him to join, but he failed.”  
“There is more going on than just robbing people,” Stiles said. “This is not just a crime spree. We were wrong. Lydia was wrong. It’s not about fear, it’s about keeping people from dying. Gina is doing this to save people! You can't put her away for that!”  
“Sheriff,” Scott broke in. “If you take her in, this killer won’t just stop. Things will get worse. One day. Wait just one day and she'll go willingly. Just. Not. Tonight.”  
“You boys don’t know just how bad things are,” the Sheriff was angry now. “We set up this watch to find the robber. You all agreed that the town needed to be aware of the watch to minimize fear. To bolster confidence. Do you have any idea what would happen if people found out that we knew who the robber was, thanks to the watch, and were intentionally doing nothing?”  
“As much as I agree with Scott, the Sheriff has a point,” relented Derek. “But we need to do this carefully.”  
“Her parents are lawyers,” Isaac reminded. “They’re going to fight you until the bitter end if they have anything to say about it.”  
“It’s out of my hands,” The Sheriff threw up his hands. “I uphold the law, and the law states that I have to take her into custody.”  
“Does the law say anything about werewolves who’ll rip you apart during the full moon?” came Peter’s voice as he emerged from the kitchen. “No. But I believe it does say something about ‘protecting and serving’?”  
“Don’t quote the law at me,” Officer Stilinski said in a steely voice.  
“I think we should take her in,” said Mr. Argent. “But I think we need to plan it first. Isaac,” he turned to him. “Is it possible to transport the freezer to the jail?”  
“My dad drove a pickup,” Isaac shrugged. “I think so. But the locks are crap since we put Scott in it.”  
“What are you planning, Mr. Argent?” asked Derek. “That we lock her in this trunk in jail?”  
“I am,” replied Argent. “It would be the safest place for her without running the risk of keeping her free. During a full moon, she could kill her best friend. Her family. Her own dog. We can’t take any chances. I agree with the Sheriff, she should be taken in.”  
“And her parents? They don’t know anything,” Isaac reminded. “They’ll do everything in their power to make sure Gina goes free. They’ll have no idea how dangerous she is.”  
“We have to take the risk,” said Derek. “It’s our best shot.”  
Peter said nothing more, but seemed to enjoy himself while watching everyone else plan.  
“When would be the safest time to pick her up?” asked Officer Stilinski. Stiles and Scott shared a defeated glare of annoyance at being ignored.  
“She’s receiving a writing award this afternoon,” said Isaac. “She wrote a poem about being a werewolf. Well, not literally, but it's all a huge metaphor. The English department recognized it. If she doesn’t show up to receive the award, a lot of people will be immediately suspicious.”  
“But they’ll be there?” asked Scott. “Her parents? The afternoon is already running it close to the full moon. We’ll be lucky if she can last until then.”  
“They can’t make it,” Isaac shook his head. “Gina didn’t tell them about it. She knows today is going to be hard, she thought the safest place for them to be is at work.”  
“So we’ll get her then?” Even the Sheriff had lost most of the conviction he had during the beginning of the conversation. The gravity was weighing down on everyone. A darkness that pervaded and tainted any sense of victory, of getting ahead. Of making progress. Cora and Derek glanced at Peter, who offered nothing helpful.  
Isaac nodded. Stiles and Scott agreed. Everyone else agreed.  
“It has to be quiet, or she’ll likely become hostile,” said Mr. Argent. “I’ll come with you in case she needs to be tranquilized.”  
“You’re not going to shock her, are you?” asked Allison.  
“I may have to, sweetie. This isn’t just a werewolf on a bad day. This is an Alpha on the worst possible day. We need to take every precaution.”  
Allison took it hard, but she was in agreement as well.  
“Isaac,” Scott said to his friend. “She can’t know about this.”  
“If she doesn’t, she’ll freak and you know that.”  
Scott didn't need wolf senses to feel the resentment radiating outward from Isaac. “If she knows it’s coming, she’ll try to run or resist.”  
“She already knows it’s coming,” said Stiles. “It’s why she asked Lydia and me not to tell anyone. She doesn’t think jail is safe, and I still kind of agree with her. I still say we wait 24 hours.”  
“We’re doing what’s best for her and the town,” concluded the Sheriff. “That’s all we can do. She’ll be in for breaking and entering, but with good defense attorneys, which she’ll be sure to have, she might get off on the charges. But either way, she needs to be locked away. Somewhere with bars and restraints. And that’s what we’re doing.”  
Everyone went home having a plan and knowing more than when they came in, but no one had any large sense of confidence. They had been robbed of that with the heavy news of what they had to do next. Nothing was falling into place easily. Things didn’t fit yet. They were working as if in a fog, having to blow away an area before taking one step forward, and seeing nothing but mist in all other directions, including behind.  
***  
The werewolves decided that everyone would be present around the school grounds. Ethan and Aiden, who were only tangentially involved in the watch - as they had more to prove to Derek than even Gina - were told to keep an eye on her. Derek walked the perimeter in case she tried to escape. His lack of faith was in Isaac keeping the secret. Cora patrolled the other side in an overlapping pattern. Everyone else tried to go about their school life as normal, but it was rather difficult. The full moon did not exempt Scott, Ethan, Aiden and Isaac from its influence, despite their training. It put them more on edge than ever. It set them that much closer to exposing their powers than at any other time. The entire day felt like walking on tight wires of varying thickness above a pit of knives.  
Even Deucalion was distracted. He showed them a movie of a Shakespeare adaptation of King Lear and supplemented it with work sheets as he fiddled with things behind his desk. Although quiet and taking care not to alert his movements to his students, Scott and Isaac still took interest in him. He was the strongest suspect as to the doings surrounding Gina. But they still lacked proof. Stiles had told them what Gina said about Peter, and that whole exchange they had the night Gina was out collecting flyers. Despite what she also had said about him not being the Alpha, they were still in doubt.  
Gina took every opportunity to be outside. Between classes. Much of the lunch period. P.E. class. Bathroom breaks. She encountered Derek and Cora every time as she tried to escape to the tree line. Every time they stopped her she grew angry and bared her teeth, especially in front of Cora. Fortunately nothing more than a stand off ever resulted. But it still kept everyone an unhealthy amount of nervous.  
Gina was completely still in World History class, and wore sunglasses the whole time. “Are you feeling...stable?” Isaac had his hand clutching hers, ignoring the pain as her claws dug into him.  
“So long as I try not to think about anything, I can somehow manage to not Ted Bundy all over the place. I just don’t know how much longer I can do this. Maybe I shouldn’t accept my award. Maybe I should just go straight to your house and lock myself up.”  
“I can’t...let you do that.” Isaac failed to mention that the freezer would soon be in transit to the prison.  
“Why not?”  
Isaac knew she’d be listening. She would know the second he started lying.  
“It’s a long time to be in there. A whole night. Adding a few hours is only going to make it worse. I say minimize it as much as you can.”  
“I have never been so anxious to get out of school.”  
“I know,” Isaac held his breath. Gina’s grip eventually relaxed, leaving five obvious puncture wounds in his hand that, being Alpha-inflicted wounds, wouldn’t go away. Isaac sucked on them and wrapped a fast food napkin around them to not appear conspicuous. “Your parents aren’t coming, right?.”  
“It’s for their safety.”  
“Did you give them an excuse why you wouldn’t be home?”  
“I’m staying with you at a friend’s house.”  
 _That’s not going to be entirely untrue_ thought Isaac. _At least it wouldn’t have been originally._ “What’s with the sunglasses?”  
“My eyes haven’t changed back since this morning,” she whispered.  
“You look hungover,” Isaac smirked, trying to lighten the mood.  
“Better that than looking like a monster.”  
She withdrew her hands and hid them in her lap. She took out a pair of leather gloves and slipped them on loosely to hide her claws. “I’m sorry I stuck you. I...can’t control it very well.”  
“I know. But at least crack a smile? Can you do that for me?”  
“These stupid teeth keep rubbing against the inside of my lips, I can’t get them to retract.”  
“You’re a mess,” Isaac forced a laugh.  
“I know,” she said forlornly. “Until tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll be better, right?”  
“Yeah,” Isaac reassured. “It’s just for tonight.”  
“Will you be there with me?”  
“Of course.”  
“Thank you, Isaac.” She reached for his hand with the glove. He took it and gave a heartfelt squeeze.  
After the last bell rung, people gathered in the auditorium for the hopefully short ceremony. Gina was not the only one to receive an award, and would be waiting in a lineup of people to accept. She was also obligated to stay the whole time, since her lineup would all be seated onstage.  
Isaac and Scott sat in the audience and waved to her for comfort. “Why the gloves?” Scott whispered.  
“Her claws won’t stay in.”  
“The sunglasses?”  
“Her eyes won’t change back. She can’t even smile without showing her teeth.”  
“She looks hungover.”  
“That’s the joke.”  
The ceremony began with words from other teachers in the department. Deucalion sat at the end, listening patiently but constantly checking his phone. “Someone else looks nervous today,” Scott whispered. Isaac nodded.  
A boy was congratulated on winning an art award issued by the school. A slideshow of his winning sculpture, narrated by his art teacher was shown to the audience, who were expected to clap afterwards. A senior girl was put on display for her dancing achievement, having been accepted into a prestigious arts school for Ballet. Everyone clapped, her dancing instructor clapped the hardest. Four more people went through agonizingly slow ceremonial admissions of their talents before they got to the English department. Gina went third.  
Deucalion put down his phone and took out a piece of paper. He walked up to the podium and cleared his throat. “As the newest member of the English department, I would like to first thank my peers for the invitation, despite having joined them only recently. But today isn’t about me,” he turned around and looked Gina right in the eye. “It’s about our lovely Gina.”  
Isaac and Scott nearly shot out of their seats. Gina’s face lost color. She completely froze. Her heartbeat started racing almost impossibly fast. Her mouth opened but no words could come out. The same thought occurred to the werewolves in the audience at the same time.  
 _It’s him._  
Deucalion continued, referring to his paper as he spoke. “From the moment I met her, I knew Gina was special. I knew her talents were numerous, but just...untapped. Un-encouraged. She struck me as a natural-born leader, but showed a hesitance to acknowledge it. I can’t say I deserve any credit except for the one small push it took to help her become what she is today.” He gave a warm clap. “Come on up here, Gina. Don’t run away now.”  
She was trembling. She was trembling in her seat, unable to move.  
Deucalion pulled his ears back and smirked. “Don’t be scared, **come.** ”  
Scott and Isaac were sure of it. He had used the Alpha voice on her. She stood up as if pulled by invisible hands. Her feet moved against her will towards the podium. She stood next to the beast that had bitten her, less than an arm’s length away from the single person who she was hopelessly devoted to in mind and body, despite every fiber of her soul screaming out for her to escape. This inner battle was visible only to Scott and Isaac.  
“Sunglasses?” Deucalion purred. “A...strange choice for an indoor ceremony, don’t you think?”  
“The lights are too bright,” Gina squeaked. Her voice was barely more than a whisper.  
“I’m quite fond of them myself,” Deucalion smirked as he put an arm around her shoulder. His finger wrapped around her scalp and tapped on the side of the lenses. Only Scott and Isaac saw his claws were out. “If you would, could you read aloud your award-winning piece, so that people might get but a taste of your excellence?”  
Gina hesitated, standing in front of the podium. She licked her lips, and traced the lines her teeth made.  
“I don’t know if I can watch,” Isaac groaned.  
“We have to,” said Scott, though he sounded as if he was going to be sick. “In case one of them tries anything.”  
Gina fished out a crumpled piece of paper in her pocket and tried to flatten it out on the podium. She must have been fidgeting with it all day, and her claws had left tiny punctures that caught the light as she turned it over and over. She opened her mouth wider and tried to form syllables, but they didn’t come out. Deucalion adjusted the microphone for her. He took a sick pride in watching her struggle, a pride that ninety nine percent of the room didn’t understand. All they saw was a teacher encouraging a student who struggled with stage fright.  
“B-bitten,” she started. “A p-poem I wrote as a t-triumph over oneself.” What had been read to Isaac the day before as a testament of Gina’s strength of will and perseverance had been reduced to a pathetic cry for help. The only thing holding back Isaac from leaping on stage and ripping Deucalion limb from limb with his bare claws was Scott pinning him down. Scott himself struggled, holding himself down through sheer force of will. Through knowing that these people would be thrown into a bloodbath, that Deucalion was more powerful than he let on. That there were factors they didn’t know about. Suppose Deucalion had failed turning Richie, but had succeeded with someone else? Suppose Gina was just one of many Deucalion had decided to recruit?  
As Gina rushed through her lines, her condition seemed to deteriorate even further. When she finished, she didn’t even wait for the applause. She didn’t care it was meant to be helpful, to try to cheer her up. She was only too aware of the eyes staring at her, aware that if she put even one finger into view, if her sunglasses slipped an inch, if she cracked any trace of a smile, she would be seen as an abomination. A monster. Something to be feared. Something to be put down.  
She collapsed into her seat and put her face in her hands. The people on all sides of her congratulated her and patted her back and shoulders, but she swatted them away with violent swings that shut everyone up immediately. People shifted their chairs away from her. The sound of the applause must have overwhelming to her sensitive, lunar-enhanced wolf ears.  
The ceremony wasn’t even over then. It continued for a grueling half hour longer. The worst, it seemed, had passed. Gina became very still. She sat in her chair looking at her gloved hands in her lap, trying to keep her face in one stuck position. But twitches in her facial muscles betrayed how much effort she was actually putting in.  
Deucalion seemed extraordinarily pleased with himself, sitting much more calmly than before. He threw his eyes to Gina, his triumph. Than to Isaac and Scott. He looked straight at them as if to ask "now you know. What are you going to do about it?"  
“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch,” Isaac growled. “The second this thing ends.”  
“We can’t,” Scott whispered. “Remember the plan. Secure Gina first, get her to a safe spot. Then we’ll confront Deucalion.”  
It didn’t occur to them to text anyone about the news. They were too focused on the tenuous situation at hand to bother tearing their eyes away to alert anyone.  
***  
Stiles was over at the police station waiting for his dad to come out. He had second thoughts about the plan and wanted to talk. He was also supposed to wait while Derek and Mr. Argent retrieved the freezer. Either way, Stiles was stuck doing nothing. Again. Playing the waiting game to see if there was a chance for him to jump in and be useful. It killed him inside when he did this. It reminded him that he was ‘only human’.  
 _Peter or Deucalion_ he thought to himself. _One of them is our killer, if not both of them. Gina’s being controlled by one of them._ “The facts,” he murmured. “Gina was bitten and turned into an Alpha, and according to Scott and her, she didn’t murder anyone. Okay, previous theory dumped. Returning to original theory, only an exceptionally powerful Alpha can turn people into Alphas right away?”  
“No,” he countered himself. “Even Deaton said that didn’t happen. It’s stupid. But how?”  
Lydia arrived. She was supposed to be Stiles’ ‘back-up’ in case he ran into any trouble.  
“What are you mumbling about now?” she sat down beside him, but put her bag in between them.  
“I’m trying to put it all together, since our previous theories weren’t true.”  
“ **Your** previous theories.”  
“You were all about the robberies being a fear tactic,” Stiles crossed his arms. “You know what? It’s okay, Lydia.”  
“It’s okay what?”  
“It’s okay to be wrong every once in a while. We all are.”  
She harrumphed and crossed her own arms, and threw one leg over another facing away from him.  
“We’re behind again. Gina isn’t the killer, we don’t know who is. She was robbing people to keep them out of the trap, but what is it and who’s setting it? What’s their game? Why try to recruit Richie but kill Deucalion’s sister?”  
Lydia wasn’t even listening.  
“Lydia!”  
“Shhh!” she put a finger in front of his face. “I’m getting a Skype call from Jackson.  
“Awooo! Our werewolf in London,” Stiles half-sang half-sighed as he rolled his eyes.  
“Hey!” she said excitedly, pulling herself up and flipping her hair.  
“Hey.”  
“How’s jolly ol’ England treating you?” she said in a mock English accent.  
“Bloody weird,” Jackson said with no spunk or effort to try to emulate Lydia. “The program’s pretty good. I’m learning a lot about werewolf history and their code that they’ve got here. I can see why Derek spoke of it so highly when he told me I was going. The guy's not a complete freak after all.”  
“You’re part of a werewolf school?” Stiles asked, peering over Lydia’s shoulder. She pushed him out of the way.  
“Who is that, Stiles?” Jackson’s familiar face sneered.  
“Unfortunately yes,” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Being Stiles.”  
“Hey, put him back on. I actually need to talk to you both about something. I heard about the whole ‘druid’ thing over there. I found something while the institute was rushing to collect info on what happened.”  
Lydia tilted the phone to include Stiles’ face.  
“It turns out the institute sent over someone to try to investigate. The guy said they weren’t needed and came back. He said someone was already over there.”  
“Who?”  
“Some guy named ‘Doo-sail-eon’?”  
“Oh my God, Jackson, you’re in England! Learn to pronounce English! It’s a hard ‘C’ when proceeded by ‘a’, ‘o’ or ‘u’! It’s a Latinate rule.”  
“Deucalion,” Stiles breathed. “Deucalion’s part of the institute?”  
“That’s the thing,” Jackson said. “He’s not. At least not anymore. The guy we sent must not have known. From what I’ve been able to gather, he was part of the institute I belong to now, but he was excommunated for something really, really bad. They don’t like talking about it.”  
“ _Excommunicated_ ,” Stiles said vindictively under his breath.  
“Jackson you have to find out!” Lydia pressed. “He caused a lot of trouble over here. He had a whole pack of Alphas. They killed some of our friends.”  
“An Alpha pack? How is that even possible?”  
“He took someone from every pack he found,” explained Stiles, “and forced them to kill the Alpha and every other member. He assembled them like some sick shepherd, only instead of sheep it was wolves.”  
“Yeesh,” Jackson made a face. “Did you guys at least stop him? I’m assuming you did.”  
“Kind of,” Stiles put a hand behind his head. “He helped us stop the darack. That dark druid you mentioned. But we let him go.”  
“Who did?”  
“Scott did.”  
“And he’s the true Alpha over me,” Jackson shook his head. "Fine. If that's how you guys want it."  
“Lydia, how does he know about Scott?” Stiles asked incredulously.  
“I told him,” she replied flatly. “Jackson and I have been doing a little research while you guys are off chasing ‘the bad guy.’”  
“I’ve also been looking into Lydia’s powers to see just what kind of a freak she is,” Jackson added.  
Lydia gasped in disgust. Stiles did his best not to laugh.  
“The signs point to Banshee like you guys said, but there’s not a lot to go on, even here at the institute. I’ll have to keep asking.”  
“Jackson?” Lydia asked as the screen started to fade. “Jackson, babe, I think I’m losing the connection. Can I call you later?”  
“You can if you don’t call me that.”  
Lydia pouted. She turned the app off.  
They decided to get in the car and meet everyone up at the jail. A few minutes later the pick-up pulled into the garage out back. Stiles and Lydia went to meet Derek and Mr. Argent as they unloaded the freezer.  
“Even just looking at it gives me a horrible feeling,” said Stiles.  
“You’re not even the one who sees the dead,” said Lydia. “Isaac spent a lot of time in there, didn’t he?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Because of his dad.”  
Stiles nodded.  
“And Gina’s willingly going to stay in there?”  
“Supposedly,” grunted Derek as they moved the freezer through an open door. Stiles and Lydia led them to the biggest cell that could accommodate it. “But if she struggles, we’re still covered.” They set it down on the floor, and Mr. Argent unwrapped a long length of industrial-strength chain from over his shoulder. It fell with a deep ‘thunk’ on the cement floor. It must have been incredibly heavy.  
“Think that oughta do it, Derek?”  
“I think so,” Derek said. “Though we should still keep a watch on her.”  
“All this for a tiny girl. Barely five seven," mused Lydia. "These chains have held werewolves more intimidating than her” said Mr. Argent.  
“But were any of them Alphas?” Derek said. “She’s an Alpha who didn’t even ascend. She was turned that way. She has the power to break out of these if she focuses hard enough. Not even Scott has this much raw potential. I don’t want this to be the test to determine just how strong she is. We can’t take chances. Stiles,” Derek turned to the two at the door. “Any word from Scott or Isaac?”  
“No,” Stiles said. “It must be a long ceremony.”  
“Poor Sheriff,” Mr. Argent said. “Waiting in the squad car.”  
“I better join him,” said Derek. “Can you do the rest from here?”  
Allison’s dad nodded.  
Derek took his leave.  
“We put Scott in there once,” said Stiles. “To keep him from Allison. We were worried he’d try to kill her. But she was in danger and he broke out.”  
“So you’re telling me this isn’t enough?” Mr. Argent raised an eyebrow.  
“I’m saying Scott was able to focus enough to break through,” Stiles said. “He wasn’t as strong then as Gina is now.”  
“He didn’t kill her though?”  
“Are you seriously asking me this as if you don’t know?”  
“I do know, Stiles” Mr. Argent rolled his eyes. “I’m just curious. I wasn’t there. She really kept him grounded?”  
Stiles nodded. “He was more focused on protecting her than letting her get hurt. It was pretty freaky.”  
“Isaac should take watch then,” said Lydia. “She’ll do the same for him.”  
“Are you ever going to let that go?”  
“Not until they admit they’re a thing,” Lydia smirked.  
“Well now we wait,” Mr. Argent closed the cell behind him.  
“One more thing,” Stiles said, going into his dad’s office.  
“Stiles, what are you doing?” Lydia trailed behind.  
“Looking at Gina’s file.” He flipped through the desk’s various scraps and folders until he found the right one with Gina’s picture paper-clipped to the front like in the old detective movies. He threw it open and started rifling through it. “Gina made a police report, right? About her phone?”  
“Right…?”  
“Then it’s here. My dad might have taken down more information than he realized. He might have actually gotten a clue to who it was that bit her.” He went through the description of the assault, passing it over for Lydia to peruse. She immediately threw it down.  
“Lydia?”  
She was seeing something that wasn’t there. Reliving something no one else could see.  
“Lydia...what are you looking at? What’s going on?”  
“We’re in the woods. She’s walking home,” Lydia said. “We’re being chased. I feel the scratches and the bites,” she started running her hands over herself, unconsciously mapping the attack for Stiles and Mr. Argent. Inflicting them on herself as she felt the pain, the movements, relived the struggle. “And then nothing. Nothing for a long time. Then a voice. Oh God that voice, I know it! I know it!”  
“Deucalion,” They both exclaimed in unison. Stiles slammed down a drawing. It was the police sketch artist’s rendition of Gina’s attacker, described by Gina herself.  
An exact portrait of Deucalion.  
***  
Derek and the Sheriff waited a long time before Scott came out trailing both Isaac and Gina by the arms. Gina was practically pulling them along. Stilinski and Derek rushed out of the car to Scott's side. She stopped dead when she saw Stile's dad. Officer Stilinski took Isaac, Derek took Gina, holding her in a headlock to keep her from slashing at him. She didn’t put up any resistance. At first. They got everyone in the car safely. Scott’s phone rang. He put it on speaker when his hands were free. “Scott!”  
“Stiles, we know who bit Gina!” Scott said, unable to resist taking on his Alpha form. He used it to make sure Isaac wouldn’t explode, and that Gina wouldn’t try to break out of her handcuffs.  
“We know too. It’s Deucalion.”  
“Why am I handcuffed?” Gina said. “Why am I in a car? You said!” she snarled. “You said you wouldn’t tell him! You said I wouldn’t go to jail!” She started kicking, and Scott did his best to hold her down. “You traitor!” she started flailing. “You said you were my friend! You said you would try to help! You said it, that you and Scott would help me!” She roared. Stiles tried to explain himself on the line, but Scott stopped him.  
“She’s talking to Isaac.”  
“You bastard!” she gnashed her teeth, sending spit flying across the seats. Her foot connected with Isaac's knee and there was a sickening crunch. Scott had to unfortunately hold both of them down, trying his hardest not to lose an arm. “You absolute bastard!”  
“We’ve got the trunk at the station, Gina!” Isaac defended. “We’ve got it all set up, you’ll be locked away like you wanted in as secure a place as we could get you!”  
“In a building filled with people, you idiot!” she jerked backward, breaking the glass of the window with her elbow. “In a place in the middle of town where there’s a high concentration of civilians. You idiot! Why can’t you just do what I ask? Why is that so much for you?” Her eyes cast a ghastly red light on the tops of her cheeks they gleamed so brightly. “Why couldn’t you take me to the hospital? Why couldn’t you tell me the truth before? Why can’t you do even the simplest thing that I ask? Why can’t you be happy for me when I do something good for myself?” She started sobbing. Scott heard the handcuffs snap behind her and threw both hands onto her forearms just as she was about to slash out.  
The Sheriff put on the siren and sped down the road, pushing everyone back in their seats. Scott knew nothing was holding Isaac back now except his own will and prayer.  
“Gina!” Scott assumed his best Alpha voice. “Cut it out! Calm down! We’re taking you to the safest place we know. We’ve got it all set up, just like Isaac said. We evacuated the prisoners. It'll just be you in there.”  
Gina growled and snarled at him, her full attention diverted from Isaac, who shrank away behind Scott. He was busy obeying orders from his pack leader. Scott's Alpha-ness was heightened beyond its normal capacity by the moon. Gina threatened his pack. He was in full defensive mode.  
But so was Gina, who had no pack and thus nothing to lose. They ripped growls to intimidate each other, but neither wavered. Gina snapped her jaws to startle Scott, but he held his ground.  
“Must be nice being a true Alpha,” she bared her teeth. “Having people to support you. Having others to connect with and boss around.”  
“I don’t boss anyone around,” said Scott. “It’s what separates an Alpha like me from an Alpha like you.”  
“I didn’t ask to be an Alpha!” she roared. “I didn’t ask for any of this! If I had my way I would go back to being human, and avoid being a werewolf entirely. But I can’t! So don't you point your finger at me for being a 'bad Alpha' when no one will even give me a chance to prove otherwise! You, all of you, treat me like a walking biohazard!”  
Scott thought about telling her that there was a way to turn her back, but it involved killing the one who turned her. He had very little hope that Deucalion could be stopped yet, especially by Gina who was essentially under his control. It was probably not worth mentioning. Not worth giving her false hope, or an idea that could turn into impulsive stupidity. Scott knew he himself had done lots of that; doing impulsive, stupid things. Now was not the time to tell her. Now was the time to ride out the storm. When things settled, Gina would be safe to talk to. Just not when she was trying to tear out his throat and dismember Isaac afterwards.  
They flew into the station and burned rubber as the Sheriff slammed on to the brakes. They took Gina in through the garage, Scott and Derek carrying her in, kicking and roaring while Isaac tried to hold on to her, limping heavily.  
Stiles opened the cell while Mr. Argent and Lydia looked on fearfully as the three wolves struggled to get Gina in.  
“Gina, this is the trunk! See? The freezer. You’re going in like you asked for, this is what you asked of me!”  
“Not in the jail! My parents will try to get me out, they’ll get themselves killed!” Gina wailed as they pushed on her to get her legs inside the walls of the freezer. “You’re going to make me kill them!”  
Isaac stepped inside the trunk, the thing that had caged him for years inside his father’s prison and wrestled Gina inside. She swiped and clawed his face, kicked him around the shins and bit at his arms, struggling with every mite to try to escape.  
“Isaac, get out of there!” Derek yelled. “She’ll rip you apart!”  
“Isaac!” Scott didn’t want to use his Alpha voice on him for fear of how Gina would react. “You can’t stay with her.”  
“Gina, I have to go,” Isaac said on the verge of tears, even as the blood dripped down his face.  
“Isaac, you said you’d stay!” she screeched. “You said you’d stay with me!”  
“I’ll be right here,” he said, pulling away. Scott lifted him out of the trunk and slammed the freezer door on her. Derek and Scott leaped onto the lid as Mr. Argent started securing the chains. The trunk lurched and heaved as they worked. Indentations showed up on the walls. But the thing held. They heard muffled screams and roars, wild, animal sounds coming from it. But Gina stayed.  
They turned attention to Isaac, whose face looked like it had been placed in a basket of pissed off cats. He was bleeding all down his face, neck and chest, down his arms, but he wasn’t paying attention to his wounds.  
“You can’t stay here, Isaac,” Scott said. “Not after what she did.”  
“If she gets out, there’ll be no one else to stop her. She’d probably kill them without a thought,” Isaac said without emotion. “Allison stabilized you. I’m the only one who’ll help her.”  
“See?” Lydia whispered.  
Stiles held up a hand to her mouth, which she smacked away. She went with Cora to get the medical kits stashed around the compound.  
“What do we do now with Deucalion?” asked Derek. “We all know it’s him? We know it for sure?”  
“She ran into Peter during the watch, she said she knew it wasn’t him.”  
“The police sketch is an exact copy,” Stiles held it up.  
“I’ll never forget the way she reacted at the ceremony,” Isaac shook his head while Lydia tried to apply bandages and stop the bleeding. “She completely froze. She recognized him the moment he looked at her. The moment he told her not to run.”  
“That’s what he said to her the night he bit her,” Lydia affirmed. “When I touched her police file I saw a memory. That memory. Deucalion bit her because he wants her involved. It makes sense now. He was an Alpha of Alphas. Whoever he’d bite would have a good chance of being an Alpha.”  
“But we don’t know what he’s doing,” said the Sheriff. “We don’t know what he wants to do at the end of the month.”  
“But we know it’s during the other full moon,” said Scott. “Maybe he wants Gina to be out of control. He wants us not to be there, he knows we’ll take care of her first. If we leave her now to pursue him, we're not even guarantee to catch him **and** we'll have left Gina unattended at the worst possible moment. He's playing us now and he's going to do it again knowing it'll work.”  
“If we’re not there, then who’ll stop him?” asked Scott.  
***  
A young girl wandered into the bank with a flashlight. “Hello? I figured it out. I found your little map,” she held up a printout of the map she had configured using the flyers. “I’m here to tell you that the police is on to you.” There was a squelching noise. She looked down and immediately withdrew her foot as the flashlight fell on a mostly dried pool of blood. She turned and ran back for the door, but a figure blocked her way. “A little early to the party, don’t you think?” came a smooth, English accent as a flash of red darted across his face. The girl shone the light straight at him, reflecting the red circles on his pupils. “How many times do I have to tell people not to shine lights directly into people’s faces?” he snarled, baring his fangs. "It's rude."  
She screamed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The full moon rages on, and while one problem is being contained, another is revealed. Scott's pack and the newly formed watch feel like they're trying to hold sand, that no matter how much you grasp, there is always something that falls between the cracks. Peter is found at what they believe to be the site of 'Endgame' but throws them off with some startling news. The hunt for the killer is over, but the race to stop his plan has only just begun.

The night had only just begun, really. Everything had become chaotic in the jail as the joined companions struggled to contain one hostile werewolf. She was new at it, and easily contained - for the most part - but she was persistent. And she was crafty. “Isaac, let me out!” Gina pleaded with muffled conviction. She was currently locked in the freezer that had served as Isaac’s prison for years while his abusive father lived, and chained up besides. While it kept her from causing anymore serious injury, it did not keep her from trying to weasel her way out.  
“Isaac!” she demanded in her Alpha voice. “Let me go! Please, Isaac, let me go!”  
Compelled by the order of his heart's superior, Isaac flung himself on the chains, leaving Scott and Mr. Argent to wrestle with him as Gina screamed the whole while.  
“Stop telling Isaac what to do!” Scott roared back. “You can’t see what you’re doing! If he lets you out, you’ll kill people! You’ll find the nearest person and rip them apart! We’re trying to help you, Gina!”  
There were roars and screams and wails that continued to come from the box. This continued for hours.  
“So much for trying to survey Deucalion,” the Sheriff sighed as he handed out cups of coffee. “This is going to be a long night.”  
Everyone nodded. Scott had decided that Isaac also needed to be restrained. He was able to enlist the twins to help him do that, despite Isaac being extremely unhappy about it. He made sure to do it quietly so that Gina wasn’t made aware of more Betas in her presence. Isaac demanded, however, that he be placed in the same cell as Gina, and Scott thought against it but fulfilled his friend’s wish. Scott could see in Isaac’s slashed-up face that even though he was bleeding at her hand, his fealty still belonged to her. Scott knew Isaac was torn between two Alphas. Scott was his pack leader, his friend. But Gina was someone he had cared about first, someone with whom he shared a bond that had no rival. Scott’s biggest worry was forcing Isaac to choose, and he didn’t want to.   
He and Isaac stayed with Gina. The rest of the company went to the front office to wait for Deaton.  
Deaton arrived. “I came as soon as Scott told me what was going on.” Deaton shook hands with the Sheriff and Mr. Argent. “And I came prepared.” He plopped down a medical bag and started unloading it.  
“You really did,” Mr. Argent’s eyebrows raised.  
“A new werewolf during a full moon is a serious problem,” said Deaton as he gingerly removed fragile viles with mysterious substances. “A new Alpha is a near-on crisis, one I’ve not seen yet.”  
“Any thoughts as to why she is what she is?” Stiles asked, sipping the coffee conservatively. Everyone tried to drown out the yelling and shrieks coming from the holding cell. The banging was the worst.  
“I have,” Deaton nodded. “But my theory is incomplete.”  
“Any patterns?” Stiles asked.  
“One,” Deaton assented. “Werewolf bites present the victim’s body a choice; to accept, or to not accept and thus die. It presents a chance for adaptation, for evolution.”  
“Though you can’t say being a werewolf is all that great to begin with,” Chris Argent murmured, darting his gaze when Gina let off a particularly loud bang.  
“Evolution is often associated with ‘progress’ when it’s really only a change over time given certain circumstances of natural selection,” Lydia recited. “No one said it was better.”  
“Thank you, professor,” the Sheriff said under his breath.  
Deaton continued. “While werewolf bites don’t always mean werewolf for certain, they always present a choice. A person’s body may choose not to accept the bite, even when the mind is most willing. A person’s body can also take precedence over the mind, if the mind is unsure or unwilling, that person’s physical form will take direct executive function and fulfill its need to self-preserve. I firmly believe that, given what we’ve seen with the Kanima, with Scott and now with Gina that if there is a rift between mind and body, it affects the transformation.”  
“He wasn't willing,” Stiles said. “he spent a lot of time trying to find out how to get rid of his...wolfiness.”  
“But he accepted it,” Deaton pointed out. “His body accepted the bite, and his mind soon followed. It is Scott’s’ determination, his willingness to prove himself and to use what he has to protect others that separates him, a budding true Alpha, from other Alphas like Peter, who have killed to ascend. It is why true Alphas are also, not by coincidence, so rare.”  
“Erica, Boyd and Isaac were given the choice before the bite,” Stiles postulated, drawing on his own theories. “They accepted, so their transformations were easy. Their minds and bodies agreed.”  
"Which made their ascension to Alpha-dom that much easier," Deaton surmised. "When posed with the right...circumstances."   
“But what about Jackson?” Lydia asked, putting down her book. “Jackson _wanted_ to be a werewolf. Why did he become the kanima first?”  
Deaton shook his head. “His mind was ready, but it’s possible his body was not. Wasn’t he bleeding black blood for a while?”  
Stiles and Lydia nodded.  
“His body was trying to reject the bite. He was ready for the power it would give him, but not for the trial it would take to attain it.”  
“But he didn’t die,” said Stiles. “Was it a ‘mind over matter’ thing?”  
“Most likely,” Deaton nodded.  
“So then what’s Gina’s deal?” asked Lydia.  
“That is where my theory ceases to function quite so smoothly,” Deaton cleared his throat. “She was attacked and bitten unwillingly, unaware of what would result. She did not bleed black blood, so her body accepted the bite. She, like Scott, has accepted her fate - albeit a bit unwillingly-”  
Their conversation was punctuated by a long, vicious, primal scream.  
“But her mind has caught up. And yet that doesn’t explain how she started off as an Alpha. I’m afraid I can’t help there.” The Sheriff handed him a mug of coffee, but Deaton refused. He instead brought out a mug of tea and sipped it. “I don’t know enough about her to really say. The one best suited to figuring out her situation is Gina herself.”  
“Who is in no position to talk to anyone. Great,” Stiles threw up his hands.  
“We could ask Isaac,” Lydia suggested. “He’s the next best thing. He’s her best friend, he knows the most about her, he was the one who found her, and he’s in love with her, so he’ll do anything to help us help her.”  
“He’s also not currently trying to kill us,” the Sheriff said sarcastically.  
“I don’t see why not,” Deaton smiled confidently. They went towards the source of the noises.  
Isaac’s wrists were red and chafed from the three pairs of handcuffs tying him to three different bars on either side of him. Gina continually called out for him to help her, and with Scott physically restraining him, he was struggling to refuse.  
“Isaac?” asked Deaton.  
Isaac looked up wearily. His face looked haggard and drawn to its last nerve.  
“Isaac, I want to ask you about Gina.”  
“We want to help her,” Lydia nodded.  
“I don’t think I know how to do that anymore,” Isaac exhaled. “But I’ll do my best.”  
“How has Gina taken to her new powers so far?” Deaton asked.  
“She was willing to learn,” Isaac said. “But terrified of herself. We told her what she was capable of before she was really ready to accept it.”  
“Who did she hear this from?”  
“Derek” Lydia and Stiles said at the same time.  
“Ah,” Deaton said, unsurprised. “Let me in.”  
Everyone exchanged nervous glances. “Uh, Deaton,” asked Scott. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I trained her the best I could, but she's still really dangerous.”  
“I need to talk to Isaac, and I’m going to lay a mountain ash ring around Gina. If she manages to escape her bonds, she’ll be within the circle.”  
They reluctantly let him in and he spread the ash carefully, addressing Isaac as he did so. “Was she really an Alpha when you found her?”  
“She hadn’t changed yet then,” said Isaac. “She was just...Gina. Human Gina. Gina That Was Dying As I Watched.”  
“I know this is a difficult subject, Isaac, but it may help us to understand her. Was there a point, any point, at which you think she decided she would allow herself to change?”  
Isaac yanked on his handcuffs, willing them to snap, snarling at Scott who pinned him down, but everyone held together. Everything held together. Scott willed him to calm down enough to answer. He never took his eyes off the freezer as Gina visibly and audibly resisted her imprisonment. She made the box slam down on its side, nearly crushing one of Deaton's hands. He calmly adjusted the ring as Derek and Scott moved the freezer back towards the center.  
“She asked me if she was going to die,” Isaac’s face twisted recalling the memory. “I couldn’t answer her. I didn’t know. She was about to accept it...but then she told me.”  
“Told you what?” asked Lydia.  
Isaac gave a pathetic smile. “She told me she had decided not to die.”  
Deaton found this incredibly interesting. Stiles could practically see the cogs and wheels in Deaton’s mind start to move. Stiles tried to keep up, searching for the triggers in Isaac’s conversation that had propelled Deaton forward. Deaton shared that same intense excitement, that inward determination to start and finish the race with all the flags. Run the relay and have the baton by the end.  
“Then, her mind and body were in sync,” he said softly.  
“She accepted the bite like Scott did but faster,” summarized Lydia. “Would that make her as powerful as Scott then?”  
Deaton tried hard to analyze this roadblock, as did Stiles. But neither came up with anything. Deaton shook his head, coming up empty. “I can still only imagine her coming up Beta. There had to be something else that happened before you arrived. Something Deucalion made her do that she can’t remember.”  
“So like another body?” asked Stiles, glancing at Lydia. But glancing turned to staring. Lydia was walking mechanically towards the exit, fumbling for the door knob. “Lydia?”  
“A woman is screaming,” she said in monotone.  
“Gina, I know, we’ve been hearing her go on and on like the girl from Psycho for hours.”  
“A woman is screaming,” Lydia repeated, staring in one direction as she neared her car.  
Stiles realized that Lydia was having a vision. He hesitated, wondering whether to go back and ask someone to come with him, or if he was going to stick with Lydia and go with her. He knew she would lead him right to the body, but he also knew that as two of the weakest members of the watch, they’d be the fastest killed. _But Lydia’s a banshee,_ Stiles thought hopefully to himself. _Maybe that’ll count for something._  
 _Or maybe it’ll get us killed that much slower,_ he thought grimly. He decided to wait until they were in the car. He called his dad.  
“”Stiles, this better be good. Where did you go?”  
“Lydia’s having a vision,” Stiles spoke quickly. “Get someone, Derek, Mr. Argent, anyone who isn’t Scott or Isaac to follow us. This could lead us to Deucalion.”  
“Lydia gets visions?”  
“Dad!” Stiles pleaded. “Later. Just get someone. Now!”  
There was silence on the line as his dad asked around. Even through the phone that was held to the Sheriff’s chest, Stiles could hear the relentless Gina testing and fighting her way to freedom through her entrapment. “Dad? We kind of need to hurry…”  
Lydia started the car and shifted it into reverse without so much as turning her head. She didn’t even look behind her as she reversed out of the parking lot, into the road - nearly hitting someone - and shifting into drive. She ran a red. Stiles was now very nervous. “She listens to dead people and has a lead foot!” Stiles struggled to hold on to the handle and keep himself still as Lydia sat in her seat like a mannequin and drove. "I sure know how to pick 'em!"  
Stiles' phone rang. It was his Dad again. “Stiles?”  
“Dad?”  
“Derek’s behind you. Derek and Argent are following. Be careful!”  
“It’s not really up to me!” Stiles gasped as Lydia pulled a tight left turn from the right lane, cutting off three cars who angrily honked at her. Lydia wasn’t even blinking. “But I’ll try!” Stiles checked the airbags and seatbelt. He busied himself adjusting the headrest to avoid looking at the road.  
They swerved through an alley and arrived at the bank. The same bank in which Erica and Boyd were held captive. The door was slightly ajar. Lydia got out and left the door open, leaving them in total silence except the soft 'ding dong ding dong'. Stiles was close behind.  
“Lydia!” he called, grabbing her hand and shaking her. “Lydia! Snap out of it! Lydia!”  
She walked up to the door and pointed. “She was there.”  
Stiles followed her finger with his gaze, but inside the bank there was only darkness. The sole exception was a tiny sliver of orange light from a street lamp behind them creeping in. At the edge of this light sliver he could make out dark droplets on the floor. “You know I really hate it when you do this,” Stiles scolded her. But to his amazement, Lydia proceeded inside with total impunity. Stiles tugged on her, keeping her from entering the room, but unable to keep her by the car.  
 _What do I do?_ Stiles thought quickly. Another car pulled up and Derek and Mr. Argent got out. “I think there’s a body in there!”  
“Any sign of Deucalion?” Derek was in wolf mode.  
“I don’t know!” Stiles shook his head.  
“She’s not going in there?” Argent asked incredulously, loading his gun.  
“I don’t know!” Stiles cried out desperately.  
“Do something, don’t let her!” Derek said, approaching the door cautiously.  
“Uh...uh…” Stiles started having a panic attack. Lydia, his Lydia, was completely out of it and she was walking into what could have been a trap set for the four of them. Deucalion could have his way and off them all in one fell swoop. Lydia was the trigger. Deucalion knew by now that she was drawn to death, and that her ties to the pack and to the Argents made her of particular interest. _I’m getting real tired of these games!_ He thought helplessly.  
“Do something for God’s sakes!” whispered Mr. Argent as he strapped two more weapons to his side. He approached the door from the other side.  
Stiles’ breathing came fast and shallow. His hands started to perspire, and he was losing his grip on Lydia. She was slowly slipping from his fingers and inching her way towards the door, saying “she’s there. She’s there!”  
“We know she’s there!” Stiles cried.  
“Shut up, Stiles!” Derek growled.  
 _Desperate times call for desperate measures…_ Stiles looked at his other hand and then at Lydia. _Am I really going to….?_ “Lydia, I love you, and I’m really sorry, but you need this. For so many reasons.” _Yup, yup I'm doing this. If Deucalion doesn't kill me, Lydia will!_ He closed his eyes and slapped her square across the face.  
Lydia pulled her hand out of his with one final tug and turned on her heel to face him. “What the hell was that for?”  
“Shhh!” Mr. Argent urged them and held up a hand. They went inside.  
“You were doing the whole Scooby Doo thing,” Stiles tried to explain as Lydia hit him repeatedly.  
“You slapped me! You know the trance breaks when I find them! That was completely uncalled for!”  
Stiles paused. “You know what you were going to do? Just now? You were going to walk into a place we know Deucalion hid out for a while, where he killed Erica and nearly Boyd and Isaac, and you were just going to walk in there. Yeah. There could be a trap in there, and you could have sprung it.”  
“A trap?”  
“Yeah,” Stiles nodded angrily.  
“And I would spring it by walking in there?”  
“Yeah!”  
“Like exactly what Derek and Mr. Argent just did?”  
They both paused and then burst inside. Derek and Mr. Argent were taking turns observing the large, suspicious gap in the middle of a blood pool and surveying the building. “It’s fine,” Derek assured them as they caught up. “There’s no one in here but us.”  
“So is this the place? I don’t see drag marks.” Stiles noted disturbances in the dust as he checked with the light on his phone.  
“Maybe, can’t really be sure.”  
“No, she was here," Lydia said resolutely. "I saw her. On the floor. There." She pointed to the blood. "She was dying."  
"Then where is she?" Stiles shrugged. "Do we have zombies here too?"  
Whoever was here left in a hurry,” said Mr. Argent, shining his own flashlight on the floor where there were footprints. “The space indicates our guy was at a run. We must have only just missed him.”  
“Hey you guys,” asked Stiles. “Has anyone cared to notice that there isn’t actually a body in here, or is it just me that’s freaked out? Really? Just me? Why is that?!”  
There was a noise just outside. Derek and Argent gave silent signals for the teenagers to stay put. With claws and guns raised, they rushed outside. Sounds of a struggle with mixed snarls and yelps indicated there was someone out there. When they came back, they pushed someone onto the floor.  
“Peter,” Lydia said in disgust.  
“What are you doing here?” Derek asked suspiciously.  
“Same as you, following the breadcrumbs.”  
“Following me you mean,” Lydia scrunched up her nose in a way Stiles always thought cute.  
“You’re my Gretel, how can I not when you leave them so nicely set?” Peter smirked. Stiles wanted to kick him in the teeth.  
“Did you know about this girl getting killed tonight?” asked Mr. Argent, who placed the barrel on the back of Peter’s head.  
“Are you going to shoot me?” asked Peter with a smirk. “Do you think that’ll actually kill me?”  
“No, I doubt it very much,” Argent returned the smirk. “But it’ll hurt like hell, and that’s all I really need.”  
“This is sloppy for Deucalion, but then again you kind of have to improvise when time gets short.”  
“What do you mean?” Stiles had his turn. “You knew about Deucalion doing this all along but didn’t think it was important to tell us?”  
“I figured it out when you did,” Peter clenched his teeth, trying to blow dust out of his face as he was only inches from the floor. “I’ve just been trying a few tricks of my own.”  
“Like talking to Gina?” asked Lydia, crossing her arms.  
Peter looked exposed for a brief moment before beaming proudly at her. “Scott told you, eh?”  
“Gina told him, so naturally,” she replied icily. “What’s your game?”  
“What is with everyone and playing games?” Peter rolled his eyes. “Don’t you realize people are getting killed?”  
“Shut up!” warned Mr. Argent. “These are wolfsbane bullets, and I have one in this barrel with your name on it.”  
“You could shoot me,” Peter said. “Or you could let me help you. I think I’m beginning to understand what Deucalion wants. I think I know how to stop him.”  
They were quiet, considering. “And in return?” Derek asked pointedly.  
“What makes you think-”  
“There’s always something,” Derek said curtly.  
“My nephew,” Peter shook his head. “Knows me so well.”  
“What do you know?” Mr. Argent demanded.  
Peter licked his lips and smiled in anticipation. “To have my moment when the time comes.”  
“Tell us about the girl. Do you know where she’ll end up?”  
“What makes you think she’ll turn up?”  
“They always do,” said Lydia. “The bodies always comes back. It’s part of Deucalion’s inherent narcissism. He wants people to know what he can do. It’s his message to us.”  
“And you’re so sure she’s dead?” asked Peter pointedly.  
“Are you saying she’s not?” asked Derek.  
“I only asked a question,” said Peter defensively.  
“He could have heard us coming and taken her with him,” said Stiles. “He might dump her somewhere else by tomorrow.”  
“Or,” said Derek, “he could have succeeded. Richie was bitten like how I bit Isaac, Jackson, Erica or Boyd. He bled black because it didn’t take. What if it took on this girl like it did on Gina?”  
“What the hell does that mean?” asked Stiles, knowing the answer.  
“That we have bigger problems right now,” said Mr. Argent.  
***  
“The moon is finally setting,” Scott said relieved. “For the most part, we’ve made it.” Scott was bedraggled and worn out. Isaac was all but spent, cutting gouges in his wrists that kept healing and being torn open from forcing himself against the handcuffs. Gina had slowly, but finally gotten quiet.  
“Gina?” Scott asked. “Are you still alive in there?”  
“Technically speaking,” came the muffled reply. “Is everyone okay?”  
“She’s coherent again,” Isaac smiled bleary-eyed. “I guess the worst is over?”  
“We’ll see,” Scott drew himself up. “We’re fine. Are you fine?”  
“I’m locked in a box with no light and thirty pounds of chains keeping me in because I almost killed everyone in the room. You tell me.”  
“The worst is over,” Isaac nodded. “She’s practically normal.”  
“Can you let me out?”  
“Not until dawn,” said Scott. “The others haven’t gotten back yet.”  
“Why, where are they?”  
“Stiles’ Dad said Lydia had another vision. They almost found another body. Stiles got dragged with her, and Derek and Mr Argent followed. Ethan and Aiden are there now.”  
“Almost?"  
"Lydia swears there was someone dying there, but there's no sign. Deucalion knew we were coming and bolted."  
"So it’s just the four of us?”  
“It’s just the four of us,” Scott confirmed. “You’re doing a lot better than you were a few hours ago. There’s that to be thankful for, I guess.”  
“I guess,” came the reply. “Is anyone seriously hurt?”  
“I’m not gonna lie, Isaac’s pretty bad.”  
Isaac waved his wrists as if to physically push down the issue; to downplay it.  
“He won’t admit it, but you cut him up pretty badly.”  
Gina was silent, and then she banged on the walls and roared. Everyone assumed their positions again.  
“Gina?” asked Scott cautiously. He was trying to prepare himself for round thirty or so of Gina’s lunatic tantrum.  
“Dammit, dammit dammit!” came her angry cries as she rhythmically kicked the freezer. It hopped in place from the force. “They told me this would happen, and I didn’t take them seriously, and now Isaac is hurt. God-” there was a muffled, unintelligible syllable Scott failed to catch as she kicked hard at the same time, “-ing dammit.”  
“I’ll heal,” Isaac called over. “I’ll be fine. We should be grateful no one’s dead.”  
“Isaac," she breathed hard, gaining composure back, "how in the hell did you manage not to open the box?”  
“Handcuffs and physical restraint,” replied Scott, taking a seat on the bench next to Isaac.  
“Kinky, right?” Isaac smirked, half delirious from being tired and from having to stand without sitting.  
“Were I not in this horrible Houdini box I would strangle you.”  
Scott and Isaac exchanged a glance.  
“Lovingly, of course.”  
Silence.  
“My God guys, that was a joke.”  
“Not from where we’re standing. You're the one in the box,” Scott shook his head. His phone rang. “What the hell took you so long?”  
“We found Peter,” said Stiles.  
“What?” Scott said flabbergasted. “What the hell was he doing there?”  
“Supposedly, he knows Deucalion’s plan. He’s been following Deucalion’s doings, and Gina’s. He said he’ll help us.”  
“What’s the cost?”  
“He didn’t say persay other than ‘to let him have his moment when the time comes’.”  
“Yeah, that sounds like Peter,” Scott relented. “Are you with him now?”  
“Yeah. Argent’s got a gun to his head while Derek drives. Lydia and I will be back there shortly. How’s the ‘it’girl?”  
“Coming down. We’re okay. The box held, thankfully.”  
“What a relief,” said Lydia.  
 _I can’t imagine Lydia is too thrilled with Peter now being part of this,_ Scott thought. _But if he can really help us, I guess there’s nothing for it._  
“So was there a body?”  
“Uh,” said Stiles. “Same as Richie. Bitten. But the general consensus for the time being is that she’s alive.”  
“What?!”  
“Peter seems to think that this girl Lydia found is turning.”  
“Are you serious?”  
“Yeah, but Peter won’t say much else.”  
“What does he know about the flyers?”  
“Ooh, why didn’t I think of that! I’ll ask.” Silence on the line.  
“We delivered the pictures right to him,” Isaac snarled. “He has access to everything we have. Am I the only one upset at this?”  
“No,” came Gina from her box.  
Stiles hung up. Scott was about to be worried when he heard two cars pull in. The Sheriff was full of questions when they walked in carrying Peter at gunpoint. They put him in a cell adjacent to the big one occupying Scott, Isaac and Gina. Scott thought he complied too well. Came too easily.  
“Oh Isaac,” Lydia put a hand to her mouth.  
“I’m okay,” Isaac nodded. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m actually pretty alright.”  
“The box held,” Stiles raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s...good news.”  
“Stay away!” Gina whimpered. “I’m still dangerous until dawn!”  
“Relax,” said Derek. “So long as you’re coherent, you’re probably much safer. Dawn’s in an hour. The moon’s gone. It’s twilight.”  
“Can we let her out?” asked Scott.  
“I’d suggest handcuffs, but yes.”  
Deaton came and broke the mountain ash seal, gathering it into a pile with his broom and bottling as much as he could. Derek and Scott undid the chains, talking to Gina all the while. When they righted the box andlifted the lid, they found her curled up in a ball, hair matted like a stray dog and eyes wide and still blood red. Her claws were out and she had torn holes in her own clothes, but she was breathing in measured breaths and blinking normally. “Are you sure it’s safe?”  
Scott held his hand out to her. Derek watched cautiously as Scott helped her out of the box. “Don’t werewolves not cramp?” she said as she tried to stretch.  
“Regenerative powers apply to wounds. Burns,” Derek said sternly. “Cramps don’t apply.”  
“Ugh,” Gina groaned as she stretched her limbs. Her eyes caught Isaac. Her first instinct was to slash the handcuffs, which gave no resistance as they shattered in broken links. The rings still stuck to the bars.  
In that moment Scott should have leaped on her. She came right at Isaac. But Isaac was fine. Gina was hugging him tightly in a completely nonthreatening way. She reached out to touch his face, but curled her fingers back.  
“I’m really okay, Gina.”  
“I’m not,” she said. “I was the one that did this to you. They won’t heal normally because of me.”  
“I know you weren’t trying to do that.”  
“I was though.”  
“Not consciously.”  
“Stop defending me, Isaac,” she said. Isaac obeyed and remained silent. She observed this. “I gave an order, didn’t I? Just then?”  
Isaac nodded.  
“I’m sorry.”  
Isaac shook his head. “You’re still new.”  
Gina looked up with eyes sparkling with an idea. “Heal, Isaac.” She licked her fingers and brushed his face. His wounds started to close up. She started wiping away some of the dry blood that had caked on his brow and below his eyes. Scott watched stunned as Gina commanded Isaac’s body to regenerate, and soon all that was left was nice, new skin. Gina looked at her finger, now covered in spit and old blood. She wiped it on his brow, disgusted. “Simba,” she said with a smirk.  
“You’re such a dork,” said Isaac.  
Lydia was taking it all in with an excited smile, biting her lip to contain her enthusiasm.  
“If we’re done with the warm and fuzzies,” Peter announced from his cell. “Let’s get down to business.”  
“No huns,” Isaac put a finger to Gina’s lips. She opened her mouth slowly and pretended to bite it. Isaac withdrew reflexively.  
“Deucalion is recruiting an army, plain and simple,” Peter said. “He’s assembling.”  
“Then why hasn’t he gone after Ethan and Aiden?” Derek crossed his arms. “His former pack?”  
“If I were him, which I’m not,” Peter said, “I wouldn’t try to. They’ve allied themselves with Scott. Call him what you want, but Deucalion’s pack before was composed of those who came willingly. He implanted the promise of power and lured them in. Ethan and Aiden already found their way out. And, they’re not Alphas. He likely has no more use for them.”  
Scott remembered that his group had come to that conclusion already. _We can keep up with you, Peter,_ he thought defiantly.  
“Is he trying to make other Ginas, or is he going for something else?” asked Stiles.  
“I was probably a fluke,” said Gina. “It’s why even Deaton couldn’t explain it. He seems to know a lot.”  
“He **does** know a lot,” defended Scott. “He’s an emissary between werewolves and humans.”  
Deaton put a hand up to calm Scott down.  
“Deucalion was a member of the institute Derek sent Jackson to,” perked up Lydia. “Maybe Deucalion knows something about Gina that we don’t? Maybe he knew Gina would be a success when he bit her?”  
“That’s my girl,” Peter winked. “Almost, but not quite. Deucalion didn’t know Gina would be a success. But he is picking selectively those he thinks would make good Alphas.”  
“So Deucalion is the one biting people?” Isaac asked. “I thought we said this wasn’t his style.”  
“A lot about this isn’t ‘his style’,” Peter said exasperated. _I’m surrounded by idiots_ he thought. “His style has changed. He’s playing a new game, and we’re still looking at the old rule book. We need to adapt, like he has.”  
“We formed the watch,” said Scott helpfully. “He didn’t anticipate that.”  
“The watch wasn’t focused on him though,” Derek gritted his teeth. “We were actually looking for Gina. We pooled all our forces on something that ended up being only a tiny part while we made a huge gap through which Deucalion just sailed through.”  
“Precisely,” Peter said.  
“By figuring out the strategy you must play into it first,” Lydia mused. Stiles looked over at her.  
“Stratego,” she said as if it made all the sense in the world. Everyone looked at her like she was nuts except Gina, who hopped on her feet with knowing.  
“Someone bring me my board! We have a game to play.”  
***  
Isaac was the one sent to retrieve the Stratego box. He knocked on the door expecting a warm welcome, but what he got was a barrage of angry questions.  
“Where is Gina?”  
“We called Marcie’s parents, and they haven’t seen her!”  
“Why would she lie to us, Isaac?”  
“Do you know where she is? She said she would be with you!”  
Even Duncan was barking his protest, wondering where his Alpha had gone.  
Isaac was not ready for this. “She’s okay. She’s hanging out with us.”  
“Where?” demanded the parents.  
“Scott’s house?” Isaac tried.  
“Nice try,” said Mrs. Frae, irate. “We called. We tried all your houses, and no one’s there. So where is our little girl?”  
“You know she doesn’t have a phone!” Mr. Frae stood head and shoulders over Isaac. “Where have you taken her?”  
Isaac got a call from the Sheriff then. “Isaac, are you coming back to the station or not?” He had forgotten to turn speaker phone off, so the Sheriff’s voice was audible to all three of them.  
“The station?” asked Mr. Frae. “Why on earth are you at the station?”  
“Uh…” Isaac fiddled furiously trying to turn the phone call off. Mrs. Frae was too quick and snatched it from him.  
“Is this the Sheriff?” she asked impatiently.  
“...Yes, this is he.”  
“Where is my daughter?” she demanded.  
“She’s here with us. She’s well taken care of.”  
“Why is she at the police station when she should be home?”  
“We…had to take her in, Mrs. Frae. She’s connected to the local break ins. I’m sorry.”  
Mrs. Frae and Mr. Frae had that incredulous look of shock written on their faces. “I’m sorry?” she said with a steely voice. “Oh, you’re not sorry yet, but you will be. Our daughter had nothing to do with it and you’re holding her under false pretenses.”  
“She confessed to it, Mrs. Frae.”  
“Under how many hours of interrogation?” Mr. Frae roared. He was shaking with anger.  
“None. We also found the stolen flyers in her room. We have the evidence.”  
“Where is she? I demand to talk to Gina.”  
There was awkward shuffling on the other line as the Sheriff handed off the phone. “Mom?”  
“Gina!” Mrs. Frae was a mixture of relieved and supremely pissed off. “Gina, we are getting you out of there.”  
“No, Mom don’t!” Gina said softly. “I’m okay here. It’s safer.”  
“Honey, do you understand that you can’t be President or even a DA if you’re arrested and charged for a crime?” Mr. Frae scolded.  
“I know, but-”  
“You stay calm and wait there,” Mrs. Frae promised. “We are busting you out, and we are going to cause heapfuls of hell until that happens.”  
“Mom, I did it! I was the robber. I...deserve to be in here.”  
“You made a bad decision, you’re young, you were coerced into doing it by your friends.”  
“I wasn’t!” Gina defended. “I did it on my own! Those flyers lead to something bad, I’m trying to help people!”  
“Then we’ll use that as your defense,” said Mr. Frae. “We’ll prove your innocence. You’ll be out of there soon, okay dear? Just hang on.”  
“What do you want?” asked Mr. Frae. They handed the phone back to Isaac.  
“Uh,” Isaac stuttered, “Stratego. Gina wants it.” Mrs. Frae stormed up the stairs as Mr. Frae stared disapprovingly at Isaac, something he hadn’t done since the first time Gina brought him home. Mrs. Frae returned with the Stratego box and shoved it into Isaac’s hands. “This is your fault,” she hissed. “When we took you into this house, we assumed you would do what was best for our family as we would do the best for you. Did you know Gina was doing this?”  
Isaac hesitated. “No, I really didn’t.”  
“You didn’t encourage her to do this?”  
Isaac again shook his head.  
“Who did?”  
“She really did it herself, but she’s got a great reason. We think that a serial killer handed them out to make a map towards a party at which we think people are going to die. Gina was trying to be a hero,” he defended, skipping over almost all the details. “She wanted people not to figure it out so they wouldn’t die like those bodies the police found. She wanted to help.”  
“Well she’s no vigilante,” Mr. Frae said. “I don’t see why she just didn’t come forward and get the police to solve it. None of this is her responsibility. Or yours for that matter!”  
Mrs. Frae looked tired. “Michael, are we going to work today?”  
“The hell we are,” he replied. “We’re getting our daughter home.”  
Isaac left feeling sick.  
He returned to the jail cell, and as Peter and Gina began the game controlling their side of the board, he explained the news.  
“Did you tell them that as soon as I’m back I’ll start going on a murderous rampage at the beck and call of a serial madman?”  
“No, Gina, I seem to have forgotten to mention that,” Isaac said with vicious sarcasm.  
“This isn’t good,” Derek shook his head.  
Peter’s three disarmed one of Gina’s bombs.  
“Right when we think we’ve secured something…”  
Peter advanced, but another bomb Gina had hidden blew up his four when he thought he had cleared away.  
“We lose it,” he grimaced. “Not bad, placing bombs along all the sides that I’m forced to use in order to advance.”  
“One of the oldest tricks in the book,” she said seriously. “It doesn’t take cleverness, just tactical common sense.”  
“It also makes sense to keep your stronger cards…” Peter gave a devious sneer as he advanced a piece further once the bomb had been cleared, and took Gina’s five with his seven. “In reserve.”  
“Is that what Deucalion is doing?” Stiles said behind his fist. “He’s gathering people to hold in check until ‘Endgame’?”  
“It’s very possible,” Mr. Argent nodded. “But his strategy’s had to change. We did have some impact, coming right to the bank.”  
“He’ll have to adapt,” Derek said. Gina’s seven, represented by a clearly recognizable, stale gummy bear, came up to meet Peter and took his piece after two turns of rearranging pawns.  
“We should keep an eye on the bank,” said Peter.  
“Why?” asked Scott.  
“It was going to be the site of his ‘Endgame’.”  
Everyone turned their attention to him. He smiled knowingly as he eyed his board. He had two possible places set up in both corners of his map. Surrounded of course by bombs. Gina would have a fifty-fifty chance of finding his flag. He hoped that by the time she wound her way through the bombs that his ten, in reserve, would wipe out her infiltrating force and he would be victorious without serious losses. To him, the pawns meant nothing but pavement for his larger pieces.  
“How do you know that?” asked Gina. “Did you figure out the flyers?”  
“Yes,” Peter admitted.  
“It was a map, wasn’t it?” Gina asked with glee as she disarmed one bomb with a three. As Peter took it with a four, Gina obliterated it with her ten. Peter was caught off-guard. _Using her strongest piece in the fray? Doesn’t she suspect my spy lingers around here?_ But his spy was too far away to get to the ten in time. _What if her spy is with her ten?_ Gina had picked the wrong spot, but she had a less cautious or conservative force than Peter had imagined.  
“I had found landmarks, pieces,” she said. “When robbing people. But there was one thing I wasn’t able to do myself that I was fortunate enough to solve in picking from my targets. People left notes. There were others, besides Richie, who had started to get in on this. They wrote notes, drew in lines. It helped immensely to map things out. But I couldn’t settle on a location. I imagine you did.”  
Peter’s plot was all but scouted. Gina retreated, satisfied there was no flag there despite leaving several pieces unexplored. There was a bomb right in his ten's way to a direct attack, costing him a decisive sweep. He would have to pursue her and hope her force paused if his ten was going to wreak havoc properly. “Very clever,” said Peter, as he advanced his spy. Gina would have to get passed him to reach the flag, and he knew which piece was her ten. He took her gummy bear with an eight, knowing it would re-reveal her strongest piece. He would confront her from the front and then sweep from behind.  
“So what do we do now?” asked Stiles.  
“We wait,” said Lydia. “We have Deucalion off-guard, which means he’s more likely to make a mistake.” She looked over at Peter, carefully observing his reactions as he played out the game with Gina. “But we don’t yet know what ‘Endgame’ even is, let alone how to stop it.”  
“It’s a trap, that’s for sure,” said Mr. Argent. “Everyone who started to figure it out is either dead or turning into a werewolf.”  
“It’s a fishing net!” Lydia said. “He wants us there! He’s using it like a beacon! He wants us to be there to either join him or be killed by his new army. Everyone says the flyers are advertising a party, but what it’s really going to be is a battle. If we bring Gina, she's going to cause a bloodbath. No offense.”  
"None taken," Gina said as she assaulted Peter's side of the board.  
"But if we don't, she'll be attacking people behind us," said Stiles. "Deucalion's going to make us choose between helping Gina and stopping him."  
Gina’s ten fell to Peter’s spy, but she didn’t look all that disappointed. “You play a good game, Peter. You’re cautious but have a firm hand.” She moved a piece forward and revealed it with a smirk. “But you’re overconfident.” It was a two. “And you undervalue many of your pieces.”  
Peter then was forced to retreat, or at least fake one, as he moved his ten to the forefront. He took three of her invading force and had assured himself he had won. Except Gina revealed her other piece. Her spy, which she had been keeping in the wings. Never attacking. Careful not to reveal, like how a real spy would act. “Every player in this game is important. It took me several rounds with Isaac to realize that. After that, he was pretty much toast.”  
“Burnt toast,” Isaac sighed. “She’s practically unbeatable at this game.”  
“But it was a good try."   
Peter's best pieces were gone, and he realized that it was only a matter of time before Gina captured his flag. Her invading force, he had surmised, must include even after his expert assault, a spy, some twos, at least one three and a six. She halted her pieces just within the small opening she made with surgical precision in his other bomb nest.  
"What are the odds your flag is here?"  
Peter met her gaze with a stony expression. It hid his defeat and his interest in her confidence. She smiled and held out her hand. Peter took it with too much enthusiasm for Isaac’s and Scott’s liking.  
“A clever girl plays a clever game,” he smiled. “Are there Stratego tournaments you play in?”  
“Oh no,” Gina shook her head embarrassed. Her werewolf features having receded a while ago, she went from wolfish to sheepish.  
“Too bad,” he smiled. “We could have made a good team.”  
“Alphas don’t work in teams,” Scott said warily.  
“Too many scientists, not enough Igors,” Gina said.  
“Now we know that’s not true,” Peter said challengingly. “Deucalion managed fine. Who’s to say we can do the same, especially with Scott here?”  
“You don’t strike me as an offensive player though, Peter,” Gina said coyly, holding up her blue ten. “I think you’re more an….in reserve kind of player. An off-field general.” She picked up his ten.  
 _She’s figuring out Peter by watching how he plays the game,_ Stiles thought. _If only we could get Deucalion to play we’d know a bit more about him._  
“Not team player enough for my liking however," Gina swept the pieces aside. "Considering the ramifications of your proposal.”  
Peter looked annoyed, but remained cool. It made Scott upset.  
***  
Deucalion stood alone in the copy room, watching contentedly as fresh, warm sheets of newly inked paper fell into the tray. He made sure no one else was there as he picked up the pile, tied it nicely in some twine he had gathered from the art supply closet. He held it close to him as he hummed something to himself, and then walked down the hall, counting off the lockers as he went until he came to one. Gina’s locker. He listened with his wolf ears until the lock came away effortlessly and stuffed them in. “I have one more job for you, my pet,” he murmured to himself. “Plans change, but no matter. So long as you’re there to watch the fireworks.” He strolled down the hall, whistling the tune he carried. He dialed a number on his phone and left a message, clicking his phone shut when he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back, I don't think I emphasized how equally capable each Alpha (Deucalion and Peter) were as candidates to being Gina's Alpha. I wanted to establish the 'red herring' much like how Deucalion was used in his original season (3A) but I'm only doing 12 and not 24. If I were to try to do 24 chapters/episodes, not only would they all be shittier but I wouldn't be able to finish them in time for 3B and my writing would probably suffer.  
> But don't worry, I'm still making Peter important I promise!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter decides to take matters into his own hands and strikes a tenuous deal with Deucalion over the right to use Gina. But each has their own plan to destroy the other. But Deucalion seems to be biding his time, regrouping, despite Lydia unwittingly discovering his original Endgame location. Gina is broken free of the one place she was safest and is out and about again planting flyers and makes a tenuous pact of her own with Peter in the hopes of stopping more damage from being caused. What kind of consequences that could result our characters are only beginning to fathom.

This time, Deucalion had the pleasure of discovering two half wits who had somehow found their way through his maze. They too had shown up to the bank. One in a basketball jersey that sagged halfway down his torso and baggy jeans. The other in a yellow polo shirt and well-fitting khakis.  
“Are you here to make a deposit?” Deucalion asked with a sneer. “I’m afraid we’ve been closed for about, from the looks of it, fifty years?”  
“We’re here for the party,” one held up the flyer. Unamused and unafraid.  
He knew which one he would keep.  
“How did you two manage to find out where to go?”  
“That Richie kid had it all about figured,” the first crossed his arms smugly.  
“He was killed,” Deucalion said flatly. “And yet you still came?”  
“Hey,” the second one poked the first. “He’s right, that’s what I told you!”  
“Dude chose wrong, man” the first one stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels, sticking his pelvis out with a macho air and ignoring his friend. “We chose the other path.”  
“Well congratulations,” murmured Deucalion. “You found the right place, but at the wrong time. Can you not read? The one thing that I actually put on each of them is the date of the actual party. It’s the 31st. Today’s the 21st. And my threes look nothing like my twos.”  
“So do we get some kinda prize?” pushed the second one. “I put together your map. I studied the ley lines, and configured this point. You made a big deal of hiding this place.”  
“Clever, this one,” Deucalion smiled. _There’s hope for these twits after all. One of them, anyway._ “You’re the brains of this operation, that much is plain.”  
“Yeah, and I’m the muscle,” flexed the first. “So what, we get like, VIP passes? Free drinks? Backstage access?”  
“Better,” Deucalion’s eyes glowered. “Much, much better.”  
***  
 _If I had a harmonica, this’d be the perfect package_ , Gina thought glumly as she played her forty eighth game of Solitaire that morning. The bailiff made their rounds out of habit rather than with any caution. Sheriff Stilinski had made sure to inform no one on Gina’s actual condition until he decided she was a threat. She had been very pleasant once the full moon passed, unlike her parents, who would only be content when the fire they had set under Stilinski and his staff had burned a way through the wall through which Gina could escape.  
 _No more perfect grades, no more rowing. All of that wasted,_ Gina moaned. _Just sitting here experiencing the epitome of tedium._  
“Hey, Gina?” The Sheriff tapped on the bars. “How ya doin’?”  
Gina looked at him with her _are you kidding me_ face.  
“Well, all things considering I mean.”  
“I’m not a crazed psycho with a taste for blood anymore, if that’s what you were asking,” she replied stiffly.  
“It wasn’t,” Stilinski defended. “I just...I hate seeing this happen to good kids. Stiles and Scott told me everything, about the flyers and this ‘Deucalion’ character. I believe you. But you know I have to keep you here.”  
“As the scapegoat,” Gina sighed, returning to her cards. “I know.”  
“Your parents are gonna get you out, there’s not much doubt in my mind. If that makes you feel any better.”  
“You’d think it would, but it doesn’t. They don’t understand just how dangerous I am. Could you...stall them? Not ‘halt’ their crusade, but prolong it? I don’t know, fillibuster, something! Just until this full moon is passed?”  
“The one on the 31st?”  
“That one.”  
“You’re going to do the whole…” the Sheriff hooked his fingers into claws and bared his teeth in a pantomime. “...again?”  
“This month’s got a blue moon. Two fulls. Double whammy. If my parents get me out before then, I may not have a safe place to hide when it comes. Then I’d wish you good luck getting me back in here. I’d have blood on my hands, God knows I’d deserve to be here, then.”  
“You’re too hard on yourself,” the Sheriff leaned on the counter opposite her. “Sure, when you’re a wolf you’re a little...much. But I’ve dealt with psychos. I’ve had my fair share of serial killers. They’re not like you. They don’t just have a Jekyll and Hyde thing going on. They’re terrible people through and through, and that manifests in their acts. You’re not a violent person. You’re a very good person who just, as I see it, fell into an unfortunate set of circumstances beyond your control.”  
Gina paused her cards and looked up at him. “I hurt Isaac. I hurt the one person who showed me the most kindness. That’s a terrible thing.”  
“We all make mistakes, Gina,” the Sheriff sipped his coffee. “We all hurt the people we love sometimes. It’s inevitable. We’re human. We’re stupid.”  
“Part human in any case.”  
“But my point still stands,” the Sheriff said helpfully. “But we forgive each other, And we have to forgive ourselves. You know my son, Stiles?”  
“Do _you_ know your son Stiles?” Gina snickered.  
“I’ll put it this way, I know firsthand what it takes to forgive something stupid.” The Sheriff took a deep swig of his mug to make his point. “But he’s a good kid, and I know that. He just tries so hard, I can’t stay mad for long. But believe me, he does some seriously, wickedly stupid stuff. But I try to bail him out because it’s the right thing to do. He’s my kid, you know?”  
“Yeah,” Gina nodded. “I don’t know how Isaac manages to throw himself before me even after what I did to him. This wasn’t even the first time.”  
“Personally, I think the kid’s head over heels for you,” the Sheriff shrugged. “That’s one way to look at it.”  
Gina’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?!”  
“You didn’t know?” the Sheriff asked uncertainly.  
Gina’s mind whizzed at incalculable speeds.  
“Sheriff,” approached an officer. “She’s got a visitor.”  
“Great,” Gina crossed her arms. “Can’t wait to talk to my parents about how stupid this all is.”  
“It is pretty preposterous, I must say,” said Peter as he glided over. He pulled up a chair and sat just on the other side of the bars.  
“What are you doing here?” Gina spat.  
“Everyone else is either at school or making plans they’ve made sure I know that I’m not a part of concerning one Alpha wolf.”  
“Deucalion.”  
“Naturally. Now,” Peter rubbed his hands together. “I’ve noticed just how much you trust your friends. But from what I know, there’s quite an imbalance of that going on.”  
“Of trust?”  
Peter nodded in confirmation. “Do you get the feeling that you’re not trusted?”  
“Yeah,” Gina nodded. “But I know why it is.”  
“Oh?”  
“They don’t understand how I turned. I’m stronger than them and I don’t even know how to handle myself. I’m a walking juggernaut with an itchy trigger finger. They’re just being cautious.”  
“Still, you would think that they would at least present you with all the facts. For someone who admittedly has no idea what they’re doing, you should know and you are entitled to know all that you can. Yes?”  
“Where are you going with this?”  
“Scott’s pack has one interest in mind, do you know what it is?”  
“Making sure everyone’s okay?”  
“Making sure everyone in their own pack is okay,” Peter held up a finger for emphasis. “They protect their own. It’s why Derek kicked you out. It’s why the watch was formed.”  
“They kicked me out because I hurt Cora, and they formed the watch because they thought the robber, who they didn’t know was me, was also killing people.”  
“But they thought you had killed people, even before I discovered you were the robber. Isn’t that right?”  
Gina recalled Isaac passive aggressively accusing her of homicide.  
“Worst of all, they haven’t told you that lycanthropy can be cured.”  
“Deaton told me that,” Gina spat. “Wolfsbane, mountain ash, basically suicide.”  
“Did anyone tell you that if the one who bit you is killed, you go back to being human?”  
Gina’s eyes widened. “You’re lying.”  
“I’m not,” Peter held up his hands calmly. “It’s what Scott spent several months doing. It’s how Derek recruited him. Before he became a true Alpha, Scott devoted himself to learning how to be a werewolf in order to defeat me - the one who bit him - and become human again. That was Derek’s game, because Derek wished to be the Alpha of his pack, and the only way to become Alpha is to kill your Alpha.”  
“Deucalion gathered his original pack that way.”  
“That’s right,” Peter smirked.  
“So why are you here?”  
“I thought that you should know the whole truth, including what the others don’t wish you to know.”  
“To what, endear me to your cause?”  
“And what do you think that would be? I’m just curious.”  
“You want to kill Deucalion?”  
“Well,” Peter said in a relenting tone. _Straight to the point, this one._ “I want to see him dead. Sure. I’ll admit it. But so do many others, including everyone you know.”  
“And you want me to help you?”  
“There’s certainly no room for nuance with you, is there?” Peter chuckled. “With me as I am, I was only insinuating that with another Alpha on my team we would stand a much greater chance. Perhaps even a better one than Scott does with his pack of Betas.”  
Gina eyed him like a rock climber would their next foothold, searching for weaknesses. Faults. Anything that could crumble beneath them and send them plummeting to their death. “Alphas don’t work in packs. Even in Deucalion’s pack, it fell apart.”  
“I didn’t say ‘pack’, I said ‘team’. We would be working together, which isn’t impossible - quite the opposite actually - we just simply wouldn’t take command of the other. No orders, no bossing, no Alpha voice. No central authority. We would be working with the understanding of equality.”  
Gina thought it over, still reluctant to accept. “What if we worked with Scott’s pack?”  
“While that makes sense,” Peter knew he had her. “To both you and me, Scott’s pack has already decided that’s a terrible idea. They don’t trust me, and they certainly don’t trust you. If we’re going to do this, we’ll have to do it in secret.”  
“I don’t like it,” Gina shook her head. “Too much room for error. I don’t have any training, nor will I be receiving any in here.”  
“You won’t be in here for much longer,” Peter smiled reassuringly. “Trust me on that one.”  
“Now,” Peter said, getting up. “I have to be going. I have somewhere to be and someone that I need to speak to. You think about what I said, and if you find yourself out in the freedom that is the open air of Beacon Hills, come to my place. I’m home around three.”  
Gina watched him leave suddenly much more unsure than she had been hours ago.  
***  
Deucalion was pacing in his office. He had arrived at school at the normal time, and had proceeded down the hall with no issues...except the chief one. None of the flyers had been put up. The two who had arrived had done so to the wrong place. He had made sure that the new flyers made clear that the location had changed. _She is not at school, and she must not be at home. But why?_ He checked the newspaper and watched the news, and it didn’t take long before he had his answer. He slammed the paper down on his desk, causing the wood to creak loudly from the force. “Damn it, Scott,” he snarled, letting his wolf features show just briefly. “Arresting my best piece before I’m ready to play her!” He thought quickly. _There’s no easy way around this, but it can be done. I will not let one mishap jeopardize my entire system! I haven’t yet, I have adapted. I have met obstacles and I have overcome them. This is nothing to me. Just a slight nuisance._  
“Mornin’, Teach.”  
Deucalion looked up from his ponderings to see someone else sitting in the classroom, alone, propping his feet up on another desk. “What are you doing here, Peter?” he said in a raspy growl.  
“Out of curiosity, why do you think?”  
“To rub it in my face of your little ‘victory’,” Deucalion snarled. “The students will start filing in, in approximately ten minutes.”  
“Then I’ll get to the point,” Peter crossed his legs over the other desk. “This ‘victory’ doesn’t really belong to me, I had very little to do with it. In fact I did my part to try to lead them away from your Gina.”  
Deucalion suppressed a smirk. “ _My_ Gina? Whatever do you mean?”  
“Cut the sarcasm, we’re playing the same game.”  
“Are we really?”  
“I’ve got my own thing going,” said Peter. “And Gina’s right in the way. Her being in jail helps neither of us.”  
 _That's where she is!_ “Are you actually insinuating that we’re somehow on the same side?”  
“I’m saying we don’t have to be on opposing sides is all.”  
 _This is the solution I didn’t know I needed,_ mused Deucalion. _And serendipitously dropped into my lap. Let the imbecile think he’s playing me. This will benefit me most in the end._ “Please do share.”  
“If Gina were to somehow get free? What would that mean for you?”  
“Why would I tell you?”  
“Because I can get her out. Some time ago I gained...influence over one of Scott’s friends. Lydia.”  
“The Banshee,” Deucalion met his gaze. “The one who always finds the corpses. You bit her?”  
Peter nodded. “Let’s say she was in a trance. Let’s say it’s because I told her to break Gina out. Scott’s pack wouldn’t blame her. They certainly wouldn’t arrest her. She’s practically untouchable. And you’d get Gina out.”  
 _I could have her put up the flyers and advance my plot away from my enemies,_ Deucalion smiled on the inside. _Peter thinks he’s derailing my efforts._ “And in return?”  
“Why does everyone think I want something back?” Peter crossed his arms in mock offense.  
“Because people like us just do,” Deucalion intertwined his fingers on his desk. “Don’t we?”  
Peter became very serious.  
“Let’s cut to the proverbial chase," Deucalion sat at his desk and leaned back, interlacing his fingers. "Are you expecting some sort of alliance? A cease-fire of sorts, or just an entente?”  
“Is that really so impossible to grasp?" Peter crossed his arms. "We're Alphas. We’ve reached the state of perfection within the boundaries we’ve been given. Scott’s a thorn in both our sides. Without him, I’d be the undisputed Alpha of my family and of practically the whole town. For you, surely, he’s presented problems already, so what if we were to equally factor into his destruction? We’re certainly capable.”  
“ _I_ am certainly capable,” Deucalion said. “I don’t resort to offering services in exchange for security.”  
“What if I told you that Gina was going to willingly help me without knowing she’d help you?”  
Deucalion raised his eyebrows. _Showing a bit of wit after all. I'll entertain it._  
“Scott’s a little shit, I know, but he taught me a valuable lesson. You can draw a bigger pack with honey than with vinegar. If you make people want to do your bidding, you don’t even have to raise your voice at them.”  
“I’m impressed you could orchestrate something like that,” Deucalion leaned back in his chair. “Given your state.” _Please, Peter, tell me more of what I already know._  
“I have ways,” Peter grinned. “Ways of picking up threads other people have dropped thinking they were unimportant. Not to brag, but it’s where I excel.”  
 _Once this fool proves he’s useful in conditioning Gina to where I need her to be, I’ll tell her to kill him. He’s made himself too easy a target, and I’ll have as many Alphas as I need._ “Then we’re at an understanding?”  
“I think so,” Peter held out a hand. Deucalion took it. They shook firmly, assured in their own thoughts that they had duped the other.  
 _That was too easy,_ Peter thought as he left. _I’ll have to get Gina ready sooner than I’d like so we can kill him quickly. He’s got something big in mind, but it’ll take him more time to assemble than it will for us to kill him on the spot. A fast and furious offensive is the last thing he’ll expect._  
***  
When school let out, everyone dispersed. They had kept a careful watch over Deucalion during English class, but even though the full moon was over, Deucalion seemed out of sorts. Like he was regrouping, gathering his thoughts. He was still anxious, avoiding asking the main five questions during class. He was still very good at keeping calm, and wasn’t fidgeting with his things during discussion. It was a mixture of signals Scott nor Allison nor Isaac nor Stiles could figure out. This made them all the more nervous. It was ten days before the last day of the month. That’s all they had to figure out Deucalion’s plan and stop it.  
“You think we’ve put him off?” Stiles asked Scott when they rounded the parking lot. “Do you think we really got him that bad?”  
“We got him, that’s for sure,” Scott said reassured. “But I don’t know how much. Deucalion could have more than one goal. We can’t really know until we see if he postpones the event or if nothing happens come day of.”  
“We can’t seriously wait that long,” Stiles said anxiously.  
“I know,” Scott grumbled. “But right now all we can do is prepare.”  
“What about Gina?”  
“What about her?”  
“You think she’s gonna be in jail by the time round two comes along? What if her parents break her out?”  
“We use the freezer again.”  
“So she’s staying out of it?”  
“Stiles, she works for Deucalion! She’s one of his! Without her, Deucalion wouldn’t have been able to put up the flyers telling people where to go so he could bite them!”  
“But we’re not going to ask her to help?”  
“I want to,” said Scott. “But she’s proven to be enough to keep everyone from doing anything helpful, especially during a full moon. She’s just a hassle at this point. If she wasn’t a newbie, maybe she could help, but she’s more in the way than not. And I hate saying that.”  
“Isaac’s not going to take it well.”  
“He’ll have to deal. We all do,” Scott put on his helmet and got on his bike.  
“We’re just drawing from a big bag of suck,” Stiles mumbled as he got in his jeep. “Hoping for the least sucky thing to suck so we can suck less.” He paused to try to work out his own analogy but shrugged it off. As he turned the jeep on, he noticed Lydia talking to someone on the phone. Her eyes were wide. _Jackson,_ thought Stiles with annoyance as he pulled out. _Probably..._ he looked back at her as he pulled out of the lot.  
***  
Gina was thinking over Peter’s plan. _No one trusts me enough to tell me that I can turn myself back?! That’s what I’ve wanted this whole time! Even Isaac could have told me, but he didn’t. But do I really want to trust Peter?_  
The resounding answer from her conscience was a big fat ‘no’ in neon letters. _But if he can train me, if he can ready me, I can help everyone in Endgame. I can stand up to Deucalion. I’ll help Peter kill him and I’ll be back to normal._  
‘But,’ she thought, _Deucalion ascended to Alpha...dom by killing people. By leading Alphas, he’s like...a super Alpha. So what would happen once Peter kills him? Do I turn back to normal and he becomes the new super Alpha? That isn’t good for anyone. I can’t let him do that. And if I become human and he's still an Alpha, what will he do to me?_  
 _But I’d be an idiot if I turned this down_ she groaned. _I hate staying here on the sidelines. It’s obvious everyone only thinks I’m in the way, even though I fixed the puzzle! I've single-handedly kept more people from dying! I identified the killer. I helped the Watch even when they came for me._  
 _Maybe it_ is _better this way,_ she turned on herself. _This way, Deucalion can’t use me._  
 _But he’s amassing more Alphas, which means more trouble for the people I care about. If I train with Peter, I’ll be strong enough to go against them. Protect the ones I love instead of just rotting in a cage. I’d be useful. I’m no ‘two’. I’m a ‘three’ at least!_ Gina’s mind fluttered back to Stratego. She started to set up the board to do strategy exercises when she heard a rustling. "Deucalion's a solid ten, so what does that make Peter? A Spy, or a nine?" She looked up and saw Lydia. “Lydia, what are you doing here?”  
Lydia didn’t answer. She didn’t even blink. She didn’t acknowledge anyone was around while she took out a hair pin and a rat tail file and picked the lock. The door snapped open.   
“Lydia…” Gina looked at her worriedly. “Lydia, are you alright?” She waved a finger in Lydia’s face. She snapped her fingers. It was like Lydia was... _in a trance..._ Gina realized. _Is this...is this Peter’s doing or Deucalion’s? It’s gotta be Peter, he bit her. Isaac and Scott told me everything._ Lydia turned a corner down the way Gina had been carried in. Through the garage. She looked back expectantly in no particular direction. Gina hesitated. _I guess Peter did say I wouldn’t be in here for long...but then I’m a fugitive. I’m breaking the law for real, giving up all my dreams because of this one thing. This one decision._  
Visions of standing in front of crowds of people and telling of how many criminals she had put away flashed before her. Entire walls covered in wanted posters with giant red stamp marks saying 'incarcerated' along them. Shaking hands with judges, press. Senators. What she would throw away. Then Gina imagined watching her friends die, seeing the aftermath on the news as she sat in prison doing nothing. She watched carnage from a relatively safe place unfold as Deucalion decimated people who were close to her. She had perpetuated it. She had advanced his ends. _This is worth the risk._  
She bounded after Lydia, who took her through the garage and put her in the car. She gave her the keys and walked back inside.  
“Lydia!” Gina called back. “What are you doing?” She got out of the car and raced to the dumpster, which was right underneath the window into her cell. She stood on her tiptoes and peered in. Lydia, in the same glassy-eyed blank expression walked into the cell and pulled the door closed, locking herself in the cell.  
“This is not what I wanted,” Gina groaned. “This is not what I wanted at all! Lydia, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask for this! I’ll try to get you out, I promise! Just, if you can, either keep this from my parents, or apologize to them profusely.”  
She hopped down and got in the car, heading in the direction of Derek’s house.  
There was a note on the door giving an address Gina had seen once before, but couldn’t remember. _I guess he doesn't really live with Derek and Cora after all. I can't say I'm surprised._ It was of course in Lydia's handwriting. She took the note and drove the car according to the vague descriptions Peter had given her. She arrived at a rickety, run-down house in the middle of the woods that looked like it had survived a fire. Barely.  
Gina got out and was ready to knock, but the door swung open. “Major creep factor, Peter. Why are we meeting here?”  
“Because,” came a satisfied murmur from behind her. She spun on her heel and practically smacked Peter in the face from reflex. He caught her wrist before she could. “It’s a great training ground, and no one has reason to come here anymore. For a recuperating Alpha and a soon-to-be-wanted fugitive, it’s a perfect hideout.”  
“I didn’t ask to busted out,” Gina snarled.  
“But you followed through and came here. That’s enough. Let’s get started.”  
He took her by the collar and threw her through a hole in the floor. Gina let out a stream of curses.  
“Think on your feet, dear!” Peter limbered up and turned on his Alpha features. “Scott and Isaac took you through the bunny hill. We’re going for diamonds now.”  
***  
The watch met as normal, everyone waiting for the Sheriff to arrive. Something was eating at Stiles. Something about Lydia. But he couldn’t place it. It was just something that...didn’t sit well. It was like an undigested piece of food that clung to just underneath and in between both his lungs. Like a stone.  
“Stiles?” Allison tapped him on the shoulder.  
“I’m okay,” Stiles lied.  
“Ya sure?” asked Isaac.  
Stiles nodded. Isaac would know by now, but since he didn't press it, the matter dropped.  
The Sheriff arrived looking distressed. Everyone straightened up and braced for some bad news.  
“Gina’s gone.”  
“What?!” asked Scott. “She broke out?”  
“Was broken out,” the Sheriff said. “Went to check on her and she was gone. Lydia was in her place. The cell was locked, the window was unbroken. I heard noises coming from there and went to check, it was her yelling to be let out. When I asked Lydia about it she said she had no idea how she got there. They pulled the freakin' ‘switcheroo’ on me.”  
“Peter,” Scott snarled. “He had something to do with this.”  
“Do we know that for sure?” asked Derek. “It’s possible Deucalion ordered her to leave. Lydia could have been an unfortunate bystander. This could be him being desperate to get Gina back in the game.”  
“Either way,” Cora held up her hand to shut them up. “This isn’t good. We need to get her back in there.”  
“No,” Allison shook her head. Everyone stared. “We’ve spent enough time on her already. I know Peter’s bad news, and I know Gina’s not exactly the most ‘stable’ of werewolves, but in my opinion our top priority is to figure Deucalion out so we can put a stop to whatever madness he’s got in store. I thought that was our intention from the beginning, not to babysit.”  
Mr. Argent returned with coffee and patted Allison on the back. “I agree. As dangerous as Gina has been during the moon, we know she hasn’t murdered. We know she didn’t even bite anyone. So far as I’m concerned, let Peter have her for a while. Maybe it’ll do her some good to be away.”  
“You’re sure it’s even Peter who did it?” Isaac crossed his arms. “What if Deucalion just called her back to his ranks? What if they’re regrouping?”  
Stiles thought it the best time to speak up. “I saw Lydia on the phone. Her eyes had that look. I thought she was talking to Jackson, but she could have been talking to Peter. Peter must have busted her out. He’s the only one who would think to send Lydia. She doesn’t care about Gina that much, she wouldn’t go and just visit her like that. They’re not really friends, that wouldn’t even put her in Gina’s way if Gina just broke herself out.”  
“So can we just drop it for a minute and focus on Deucalion?” Allison threw a throwing knife into the table, and it stuck at an angle. “He’s the one killing people, he’s the one setting up this whole ‘Endgame’. He’s the one running the show!”  
They all settled and hunkered down. Mr. Argent pulled out the knife and handed it back to his daughter wordlessly.  
“One more question,” Stiles asked. “Then we’ll move on. What are we going to tell her parents?”  
“I haven’t told anyone Gina’s escaped,” the Sheriff said. “To say it would ‘upset’ her parents is like saying we _may_ have caused a ruckus during the Hiroshima bombing. It would kill every chance of her having the life she wanted. I also know that if we let it out that she escaped, that’ll give less cause for people to trust the police and more cause to be terrified again. That’s what Deucalion wants.”  
Isaac took it the hardest. _Whatever it was she thought when she broke out, she went through with it, knowing what it would mean to run out of jail. I hope she knows what she’s doing._ But even as Isaac thought this, he had a sickening feeling Deucalion was at the center of it. He wasn’t sure Peter was the mastermind behind the idea.  
“That’s the kind of game he’s playing…” Scott murmured as something finally clicked.  
“What did you say?” asked Allison.  
Scott turned to look each person in the face to ensure they were listening. “Deucalion’s not playing to win, to get one thing. He’s got other things involved, back ups on back ups. I don’t know if we can even nail him down to just one goal.”  
“And that makes this easier...how?” asked Stiles. “It’s bad enough we can’t figure out what he’s doing, let alone all the whys...plural!”  
The watch team discussed battle plans for the bank, setting up times to arrive, rotations. They even suggested Deaton be a part of it to help them develop riot-style weaponry that could help pacify werewolves in a crowd. At the end of the meeting, everyone was confident that the plan could work with the knowledge that Deucalion so far had accrued at least two new, untrained, green Alphas. “Oh no,” said Scott as his phone notified him via his Twitter account.  
“What?” asked everyone at once.  
“Flyers. New ones. This complicates everything!” They crowded around his phone as he scrolled through his Twitter feed, which was exploding with new pictures.  
“They’re all the same this time,” Allison furrowed her brow. “No puzzle?”  
“This is him covering his ass,” Mr. Argent surmised. “We must have triggered his plans early when Lydia found the bank. He’s covering his tracks. If he associates with a place the police know about that’s tied to the murders, no one will want to come to the event when they all get on Richie’s track. He’s changed the location on purpose.”  
The location was hidden in code, but the flyer was a singular puzzle with a cypher hidden somewhere on the page. The lines were mismatched; roads leading nowhere, hills cutting into the center of town. None of it made sense, but there was more to go off of with this new one than all the others combined. They determined a solution would be far easier to draw - and could be drawn faster - with this one flyer. Though they were running short on time.  
“Are you still sure Peter let her out?” grumbled Isaac as they left the house, slamming the door behind him.  
“We have to talk to Lydia,” said Stiles. “She’ll tell us what happened.”  
***  
“Good,” Peter brushed off his coat sleeves from the dust that had accumulated. “You’re pretty quick for a newbie.”  
Gina wiped her brow and then her lip, bleeding from taking a two story fall through a hardwood floor. “This won’t heal quickly, will it?”  
Peter shook his head. “Alpha-inflicted wounds don't heal very fast. If we’re going against Deucalion, you’re going to have to deal. Especially since he’s got some Alphas of his own. Like you.”  
This made Gina angry. "Nothing Deucalion does is like me." Peter goaded it out of her and made her come at him again and again. Always eluding her by being one step ahead, reading her movements and dodging just out of her way. Keeping just out of reach.  
Gina’s reaction was to peer around the room, scanning it with impossible quickness. The room opened up to her like her Stratego board. _It's his home. His side of the board_. There were objects to be used to her advantage, there were objects that could hinder her. She pondered the possibilities as Peter tried to coax her into reaction. _He’s been dodging my attacks because he’s faster than me. Thus, I have to stop trying to match him in speed. I’ll have to best him some other way. Even though he lives here, there must be something he hasn’t thought of, something I haven’t tried._  
Gina took off up the rickety stairs, pounding on them as she ascended with Peter quick on her heels. It reminded Gina of her time with Isaac, which was both fun and educational. But it was a more open setting with more factors to play into; covering one’s scent, tracking...all things she lacked inside a building. _All the things I wouldn’t use against Deucalion inside a warehouse_ she thought bitterly. _I hate to admit it, but Peter’s doing a better job. And he’s not going easy on me, either. I could almost thank him for that. Almost._  
Gina hoisted herself up to the attic before Peter could reach the room. “Ah,” he smirked. “Using the upper level. Too bad the floor’s particularly weak up there. Given to…” he waited until he heard her footfalls above him. “...creak. You’re giving away your position too easily! You best come down now.”  
Gina appeared directly behind him and got her claws wrapped around the back of Peter’s head before he leaped backwards, reaching for her with all claws out. He pinned her to the floor. They were both out of breath. Gina snarling in his face and he snarling back. But he withdrew and helped her up. “Clever. How did you fake the noises?”  
Gina pointed downward. His eyes followed her gaze and he saw that she was only in socks. “I learned some things from Isaac that were useful.”  
Peter smirked. “That’s the kind of thinking we’ll need if we’re going to take down an Alpha pack.”  
Gina nodded obediently.  
“But you hesitated.”  
“What?”  
“You had my head in her hand and you blew it.”  
“I was proving I could touch you, why would I hurt you?”  
“Half of my pack would literally kill to be in your position right now, and none of them would hesitate.”  
“You couldn’t really teach me if you were brain damaged,” Gina said. “I was making a point, not a kill.”  
“If it was for real, you need to kill. You won't regain your humanity by making points. Especially not against Deucalion. Are you sure you wouldn’t blow it?”  
Gina nodded, but her face was covered in uncertainty.  
“You see Gina,” Peter said, hiding his conniving purpose in a wrapping of ‘sagely wisdom’. “Despite being what I’m going to call a ‘natural-born Alpha’ and having all the powers that come with it, you’re pretty disadvantaged next to your fellows. Your other teachers couldn’t possibly help you in this regard, because neither of them has killed for themselves. They’ve been teaching you how to keep it in, repress it. But if you repress it, you deny it an outlet. You have to let it out. Or it consumes you.”  
“Not being an impulsive cold-blooded killer is now a disadvantage?” she said coldly.  
“By trying to deny that part of you, you can’t be your full self. You haven’t had to make that choice. You haven’t had to mold and force your body to take a life, and we’re going into a situation where Deucalion is so used to his power and choosing to kill that he could do it blind. And he did. Several times.”  
“What about the other Alphas? If they’re like me, they’ll be new to it too. Not fully realized.”  
“But you’re forgetting that Deucalion will be training them. You know, the unwavering serial killer I just mentioned? You have to play his game to win. You can’t stake your life -or someone else’s,” and here he knew he would ensnare Gina but good with her naturally altruistic tendencies, “on your opponent being merciful. You have to know how to kill if you’re going to get even near him let alone beat him. Be a werewolf! Be your most hideous self if you must, if it gives you that edge!”  
Gina hesitated to accept this, but she knew that despite the bitterness that came with knowing she would have to spill blood with her hands she would need to do this. Whatever Peter had in mind - which she knew couldn’t be good - she would try to use him to help her friends. If they didn’t know how to help her, she would use her own methods. Play into Peter’s game to then learn enough to form her counter strategy. Find the bombs and diffuse them. Find Peter's metaphorical flag. Hopefully then that strategy would bring her, with Peter’s help, closer to Deucalion. All she would need to do was get to him and kill him and she’d have a normal life. Well, now that she was out of jail, as close to it as possible.  
“It’s one of the hard facts of life,” Peter shrugged as they wandered around the house. “Kill or be killed. Being an Alpha’s not just barking orders and getting your way. You gotta kill to stay on top.”  
“Running hard to stay in the same place,” Gina recited gloomily from ‘Through the Looking Glass’. “But I don’t want to lose my humanity.”  
“You have already,” Peter crossed his arms. “When you turned, it was taken from you. Doesn’t that make you angry? Doesn’t that make you want revenge?”  
“A little,” Gina admitted. “But I don’t want to kill for it.”  
“Too bad,” he sat down in one of the only intact chairs in the whole house. “Facts of life, dear.”  
“Peter,” Gina said, testing.  
“Yes?”  
“If I kill Deucalion, will that make me a super Alpha like Deucalion, or human?” _Send in the three._  
“That’s a very good question,” pondered Peter with genuine interest. _One I intend to find out for myself, **by** myself._ Peter thought grimly. “But between you and me, I don’t think you’re in any shape to kill him. I’ll be the martyr black knight and do the deed, and then we’ll see where that leaves you.” _With any luck, more agreeable to take orders._  
“If you kill him, what would that make you?” _What piece is your flag?_  
 _It would make me unstoppable,_ Peter smirked inwardly.  
***  
While incredibly unhappy in her general situation, Lydia’s disquietude was happily interrupted by the intrusion of her friends. They were surprised to find her still behind bars. “It’s almost as if all the paparazzi out there is for you,” Stiles smirked.  
It was met with one of Lydia’s death glares.  
“I’m glad someone thinks this is funny! **BECAUSE I DON’T.** ”  
“Do you remember anything, Lydia?” tried Scott. “Stiles said you had a phone call after school?”  
“Are you spying on me?” she scrutinized Stiles. “I was just in my car talking to Jackson trying to help you! He told me that Deucalion had been on the head council of the British Institute for Lycanthropic Persons-”  
“The British what?” asked Allison.  
“BILP??” Stiles stifled laughter.  
“Where Derek sent Jackson?” Lydia said it in her know-it-all tone. “The place was founded to accept werewolves - among other supernatural beings willing to participate - and to better understand them. The place is like a Hogwarts for supernatural creatures. Like, they’ve got archives of their lore and history as well as training to control one’s abilities. It’s why Derek sent Jackson in the first place. God you guys are dense.”  
“But BILP?” Stiles couldn’t hold it in anymore.  
“Anyway,” Lydia rolled her eyes and continued. “I got off the phone and got another call. Since Jackson was being a little bitch, I thought he was being a man and calling me back to apologize. And then I don’t remember anything until I got here.”  
“Any visions?” Asked Scott. “Messages? Dreams? Did you hear anyone say anything?”  
Lydia shook her head. “Are you guys going to get me out?”  
“I don’t know if we can without people seeing,” Allison shrugged. “We’re kind of trying to keep everyone from knowing Gina’s not in there.”  
“I got in without people seeing!” Lydia raged. “That didn’t cause any stir!”  
“That was before the Frae Crusade started,” the Sheriff said from the counter.  
“The Frae Crusade?”  
“You just can’t accept anything people tell you today, can you Stiles?” Lydia put her hands on her hips.  
Stiles held up a hand. “You just can’t see the humor in any of this and you’re jealous.”  
Lydia looked ready to spit fire but was interrupted by the Sheriff. “We can just look at the footage from the security cameras if you two are done bickering.”  
They all crowded around the consoles of the front desk as the Sheriff’s technician Shawn rewound the tapes. They saw Lydia walk in stiff as a board - clearly under a trance, Stiles affirmed - and turned her back to the camera standing over the lock. “She picked it,” the Sheriff murmured embarrassed at the lack of security. “With a bobby pin or something.”  
She let Gina out, who was reluctant to leave, and they saw Lydia leave with her, then come back alone. They saw a tiny bit of Gina’s face, checking on her from the window, then turning to leave. The rest of the footage was the same; Lydia sitting on the bench staring into space until she snapped out of it and royally freaked out.  
“We’ll keep this in file,” the Sheriff ordered Shawn. “We can give it to Gina’s parents to help, and we can keep it for the prosecutors. Either can make a case for or against her, I just want this off my hands.”  
“She must have put up the flyers after that,” said Scott. “The Twitter posts started flooding in a little while after.” He pointed to the time stamp on the camera.  
“So Deucalion just happened to call on Gina at the time when she was no longer in prison?” Allison put her hand on her hip. “Unlikely. Did he even know she was in there in the first place?”  
“It was all over the news, that the robber was caught,” Scott bit his lip.  
“But no one knows she broke out except us and probably Peter. Think he got one of his Alphas to do it?”  
“No,” Stiles shut them both up with how serious his tone had become. “He got an Alpha to do it alright. But not one of his. He got Peter to do it.”  
“You’re not serious,” Allison shook her head. “That would mean…”  
“Peter and Deucalion have some sort of agreement?” the Sheriff asked incredulously.  
“It looks that way,” Scott said as they rewound the footage even further to see Peter speaking to Gina.  
“This just gets better and better,” Stiles said sarcastically. “They’re both terrible on their own.”  
“But together…” Allison trailed off, unable to express her feelings on the implications.  
“They’d end the game,” said Scott.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gina is beginning to piece together just how integrated into everyone's plans she is, and acts out against Deucalion. But pays heavily. Everyone learns a valuable lesson from her sacrifice, getting a glimpse of just how invested Deucalion really is in this matter while still being kept in the dark about what 'Endgame' will mean. With Jackson's outsider help surrounding the mysterious institute and Peter's insight into Deucalion's characters, the gang tries to prepare for what they can only speculate to be a possible bloodbath.

“Deaton! Good, you’re still here,” Scott burst in with Stiles and Lydia.  
“Your shift ended an hour ago, did you forget something?”  
Scott shook his head. “What do you know about BILP?”  
Deaton looked confused before giving it thought and coming up with the correct name. “British Institute for Lycanthropic Persons. A bit. They take care to make sure that emissaries, werewolves, and the supernatural are given a refuge with which to learn to cope with their abilities. They also keep a registry to resident supernatural beings.” He fished a license from his wallet and flashed it to them.  
“How does Deucalion factor into it?” asked Lydia. “Jackson said that Deucalion used to be a part of it, but no one will talk about it.”  
“Sounds like Derek’s plan is going along smoothly, minus this small snag.”  
“Derek’s plan?” asked Stiles. “You mean…” it was all coming together. “You mean Derek sent Jackson to this institute in England because he could dig up dirt on Deucalion?”  
“Is it that far-fetched that Derek would want to learn more about the person who killed members of his pack that he was forced to let go?”  
“Not really,” said Scott. “Just that he wouldn’t tell us.”  
“Derek has his reasons,” Deaton shrugged. “As for your question, I know only how the institute works, having only registered with them myself. Their hierarchy functions as thus; unlike a werewolf pack which is run by an Alpha, the institute is run by a council elected for their wisdom. There are wolves and other creatures of varying rank and ability on the council, and it’s their job to promote understanding among peers. While Derek has this ulterior motive, he also thought it best that Jackson become familiar with werewolf custom before reintegrating him into the pack.”  
“After nearly killing everyone with his freaky lizard poison, yeah I’d say ‘good move’ on Derek’s part,” said Stiles. Lydia huffed, but didn’t protest.  
“So Deucalion did something really bad to piss them off?”  
“Correct, Scott. Were I to guess anything about Deucalion’s involvement, that’s the most likely conclusion.”  
“We could ask the twins,” shrugged Stiles. They both looked at Lydia.  
“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me?”  
“Aren’t you still hooking up with Aiden?”  
“And that makes me an automatic candidate?”  
Deaton saw that he had no part to take and calmly took an exit into the back room to let the high schoolers sort it out.  
“And ask him what, ‘Aiden I was wondering if you’d tell me why you’d pair up with Deucalion in the first place?’ or ‘What do you know about how Deucalion got excommunicated from an English institute for werewolves?’”  
“Either one would work,” Scott nodded.  
“Yeah,” Stiles looked at Scott sidelong, going along with the joke. “I’d say that’d about do it.”  
“You can both really suck sometimes,” Lydia grumbled. She sighed, “I guess I’ll be the courageous one and let you cowards get on with your little game.”  
“That word is really starting to lose meaning for me,” Stiles muttered as they headed home.  
***  
Peter and Gina had been literally at each other’s throats for hours. Peter had Gina doing laps around the woods blindfolded, had her escape imprisonment with hands bound, and even had tried to administer poison to her on multiple occasions; slipping wolfsbane into her drink, hiding mistletoe in her food. They were cruel tests to see how Gina would react.  
“You know Peter, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to kill me rather than train me.”  
“I’m only doing what is best for you, rather than what is best for me like your other two teachers. They had reason to fear you.”  
“You don’t?” she raised an eyebrow.  
“Arrogance isn’t becoming for anyone, let alone a young lady like yourself,” Peter wagged a finger. “And I’m secured in my safety around you, because I know you need my help to kill Deucalion.”  
“Does it really have to be ‘kill’? Not ‘defeat’ or ‘viciously but mercifully only maim’?”  
“Mercy’s got nothing to do with it,” Peter said icily. “Deucalion is a threat that needs to be stomped out. And letting him go once has clearly not amounted to much good. He’s a sociopath. Always has been, always will be. He takes enjoyment out of watching others squirm.”  
***  
“Well, well, I must congratulate you,” Deucalion clapped slowly as he neared his new Alpha. “I wasn’t sure you had the strength to continue, but clearly I was mistaken. And not disappointed to be so.” He loomed over a teenager in khakis and a yellow polo covered in the blood of his friend, lying dead on the floor. “So far as I’m concerned, you’re part of the pack now. You have more than earned it.”  
The teen was looking down at his friend with a glance full of tears, disbelieving the result of his own actions, but reveling in the victory he had achieved. He had won back his life, and had, in a sense, won his confidence.  
“Being pushed around is not what we’re about Harrison,” Deucalion put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not going to be about taking orders. Doing what others want. That era dies with him, your pathetic friend who tried to use you rather than befriend you.”  
***  
“I’ll tell you something not many know,” Peter slipped her a cup, which she cautiously sniffed and then tossed out its contents. She got up to get her own water from the miraculously-still-working tap. “Deucalion was once part of a British school specifically for werewolves and other such beings. Used to be at the head. But they kicked him out. Know why?”  
“Because he’s a sociopath?”  
“Partly,” Peter admitted. “But he believes that Alphas are the perfection of the werewolf species. That they’re better.”  
***  
“As a normal pack, the Alpha gives orders and the Betas, Gammas, Epsilons and Omegas must obey without question,” Deucalion purred. “But as Alphas we all make the decision. We all must partake in the responsibilities that lie upon our pack. We work as a democratic team, and best yet we are the best at what we do. There are no others above us that can stand to oppose us. As Alphas, we are perfection itself. You need not worry about scum like him anymore. And now that you are more powerful than almost any other wolf, you can stand as tall as you want.”  
***  
“The council would hear nothing of it,” Peter continued, sniffing his own food cautiously as Gina sat down. “They don’t operate by rank, see. Their council’s elected because of wisdom and empathy towards others. Deucalion tried to change that, was met with opposition and was kicked out. Likely how he ended up here.”  
“What about Derek’s family? Scott said he was involved with them briefly. Something about Derek’s mom.”  
“Derek’s mom was the last true Alpha in the area,” Peter said. “She made the orders like any Alpha, but she ascended through wisdom and counselling others. She, like Scott, didn’t kill anyone. She gained respect, not fear. Deucalion had a pack then, who sought revenge for one of their Betas killed by one of Allison’s distant relatives.”  
“Did he oppose Talia?”  
“Quite the opposite. He sought her out to make things peaceful. He was not evil then, just simply misguided. He truly thought that being Alpha and all the power that comes with it, made one more qualified to lead. He’s not wrong, an Alpha is supposed to lead a pack, as it’s in one’s nature to do so. But somewhere afterwards, after meeting Gerard and being blinded, Deucalion snapped. It’s how he learned that by killing one’s own Betas, one could ascend.”  
“It’s how he formed his first Alpha pack.”  
Peter nodded.  
***  
“I had a pack before,” Deucalion led the bloody Harrison, now turned Alpha. “I know how to run an Alpha pack.”  
“You said no one ‘runs’ a pack of Alphas, that we make the decisions?” asked Harrison with uncertainty.  
Deucalion was ready. “What I mean by ‘run’ is ‘guide’. You are not the only Alpha in this pack, Harrison, but you and the others are new at it. Beginners. You know not the capabilities you now wield let alone how to use them. That is where I come in, being a...veteran...of sorts. I will teach you the near-limitless perfection you now have to control, the raw power you contain within your reformed flesh. Once I make sure you are all as informed as reasonably possible, I will teach you how to properly weigh your decisions as Alphas.”  
Harrison nodded fervently, observing his new claws.  
“It was a necessary evil,” Deucalion faked sympathy. “Your friend was trying to prevent you from having this. He knew his relationship with you as it was could not continue. He didn’t understand that it made you equal, no longer submissive, even dare I say, dominant? His warped vision of this is what pushed him to do what he did. You acted in defense.”  
Harrison shuddered, remembering his friend calling him a monster. Saying if he saw him at his door again he’d shoot him with his rifle. Reduced him to less than human. Tried to physically push him away from Deucalion, tried to attack the source. But something had snapped in Harrison. He felt like he understood this man, despite being bitten. Despite feeling the hot, wrenching pain. Felt that it was necessary, that afterwards he would be stronger. And he was. But that wasn’t enough for Johnny. Johnny attacked, and then threatened to escape. Deucalion had said something, and he was compelled to comply.  
“But I’ve learned something,” Deucalion continued, leading Harrison to a room where two more Alphas waited. There was the girl he had turned, and a brand new one he had asked her to wrangle, still bound in ropes, waiting to be tested. “Personality of the individual has an extraordinary significance in how a body will take a werewolf bite.” He squatted down to look the terrified boy in ropes with a smile. “If they are ready to lead, if they are ready to take on the burden of responsibility from the beginning, then they can rise as only a True Alpha can.”  
***  
“He’s playing by different rules now,” Peter shook his head. “Biting you may have been an accident, or it may not have been. But it proved to him that there are more ways than we thought of producing an Alpha. And he’s using that to his advantage.”  
“We need to stop him from recruiting more people. The more Alphas he gathers, the more impossible it becomes to even touch him. He’ll form a Spartan wall of Alphas between us and him if we don’t hurry!”  
 _Impatient,_ Peter thought with sinister curiosity, _forcing her hand early, sending in her strongest force before knowing the whole picture. But pre-emptive. It could work, but it would put a wrench in my little ‘arrangement’, that might come back to bite me._ Deucalion chortled at his unintentional pun. “I think that would be unwise. You aren’t ready.”  
 _He’s holding me back for a reason other than that, I just know it,_ Gina tried to pierce Peter’s facade of calm and ease to tease out his inner motives. _There’s no way he just told me he’d get me out and did without another reason. Deucalion made me put up the flyers, I know that, my hands were covered in glue again, they’re all over the place and my shoes smell like the floor cleaner the janitor uses. There can’t be any other explanation for why Deucalion knew exactly when to ask me to do that if he didn’t know about Peter’s plan._  
 _I’ll go after him tonight,_ Gina resolved. _Peter has reason to wait until Deucalion amasses his force. He’ll send me in as the meat shield to do the grunt work while he picks a convenient moment to strike. But I want to dissuade his Alphas if I can. They are as likely to move away from Deucalion as I am, and if they’re still new maybe I can make some sort of impression. End this peacefully before the end of the month._  
At the end of their training, Gina slipped away and took off towards downtown. Towards the bank. She had a feeling he’d be there. And she was right.  
“Ah, Peter held up his end of the bargain after all,” Deucalion smiled.  
“Don’t pose it like it was supposed to be a surprise with which to put me off-guard,” Gina spat. “I figured that part out. You timed your moves too well to escape suspicion.”  
“I knew there was a reason I thought to bite you,” Deucalion’s smirk broadened. “What do you think?” He held out his hands and his Alphas, three now, came forward. All with gleaming red eyes, fiery and full of dedication. “I made them in your image.”  
Gina was disgusted. She was not only too late, but too horrified to be flattered. “What the hell do you mean ‘my image’?”  
Deucalion rubbed his hands together. “When I encountered you in the woods that night, I admit you were a surprise. I had hoped to have come upon someone more familiar, more immediately useful to me.”  
“You were waiting for Scott,” Gina said flatly.  
“Any of them, really,” Deucalion began pacing, putting a hand on each of his new minions, who looked reverently at him. “But what I got was you. Don’t look disappointed, _I_ wasn’t. I really wasn’t. It was a serendipitous occurrence that opened my mind to so many new possibilities.”  
“What are you planning on the 31st?”  
“And you expect me to just tell you when you’ve proven, time and time again, that your loyalty lies not with me, not with us, your pack,” he barked these last two words. “That instead you decide to help the lesser peons that flock to an inexperienced lummox who happens to have ascended to true Alpha-dom? The one person they think they can turn to is just that, one person. And how have they treated you in return?”  
“This is not my pack, nor will it ever be.”  
“Bold words coming from an Alpha no different than any of them, and one especially who is outnumbered and underdeveloped.”  
“I’ve learned a lot since you turned me. Primarily that I’m not afraid of you, nor should I be. You’re a coward who got others to get their hands dirty for you, and I feel like that hasn’t changed much after you killed or disintegrated your last pack.”  
Deucalion’s eyes narrowed. The other Alphas looked to him, confused and looking for guidance.  
“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Gina pointed. “His last pack of Alphas didn’t end so well. It’s why he’s recruiting. He either killed his own members to further his own power and to ascend to high Alpha, or let them be killed by others to pave the way for him to achieve his purpose. He’s not one to be trusted farther than you can throw him.”  
He pulled himself up and glared down the bridge of his nose at her, eyes gleaming red all around, not just in his irises. He assumed the Alpha voice. “Just what do you think you’re going to accomplish tonight? I could have you ripped apart in a matter of seconds.”  
“You could,” Gina tried, noting her surroundings. The fight would come, but not yet. She had lots of cover and possible projectiles at her disposal. The dust could be used in handfuls to temporarily blind opponents. There were long shadows that could momentarily conceal her, and several rooms with which to duck for an instant of reprieve. But she knew she was outnumbered. A five in a land of eights and one ten. She would have to play her bluff card first, test Deucalion further. Test herself further than that. “But you wouldn’t kill me.”  
“You’re certain?” Deucalion’s voice turned up in a devilish taunt.  
“You had every opportunity to do so before,” she played the card. “You controlled me to put up the flyers, but you didn’t set me loose from jail. You asked Peter to get me out, because he struck up some deal. You could have put me in Scott’s way. You could have walked me off a cliff or in front of a car. You didn’t. You want me to come back to you. You want me to be in this pack. You’re betting everything on the hope that I will.”  
“No,” Deucalion shook his head, resuming his knowing smile that made her skin crawl. “No, not everything Gina. Don’t overestimate your own importance. While I do want you to return to this pack, which believe me you will, I have other goals in mind.”  
“I will not,” Gina stamped her foot. “Your Alpha voice got me when I couldn’t resist, like a coward's order. It won’t work on me fully conscious and able to defy you!”  
Deucalion’s ears pulled back. His teeth came out and his brow turned grey. “You will return to your pack or I will kill every person you’ve ever held dear. That mongrel Isaac, your hovering mother, your pathetic father and even that useless mutt of yours. But if you think I’d stop there just to teach you a lesson, then you’ve learned little. You will return to our ranks now!” He threw a claw in the direction of an empty spot to his left where no Alpha was currently standing. He had roared his challenge in his full Alpha voice.  
It pressed upon Gina like a physical weight, heavy as a piano but stirring as an electric shock. It contorted her muscles to do his bidding, but stopped with Gina’s mind screaming the opposite. “The problem with raising Alphas,” Gina clenched her teeth into a wretched smile from the effort. “Is that they don’t take suggestions.” _A la Derek._ She glared back at him with her own blood red eyes. “They don’t take orders very well.” She gnashed her teeth at him and flexed her claws. If she focused on how well she was resisting, her body would listen. It shuddered as if passing the weight off to the side, rather than lifting it away entirely.“You’re creating minions, not partners. You’re just trying to get back at Scott, just trying to be petty rather than helping these individuals grasp new powers they don’t understand. You’re training them to kill, not to lead.”  
“Is Peter really doing any better?” Deucalion growled.  
Gina saw the Alphas around him consider her words, that they acknowledged her logic, even marveled at her resistance. But then they looked again at Deucalion with doubt. But at Deucalion’s subtle, nonverbal direction they snapped to attention. They tensed up. They were in crouching position. One slight twinge and they would attack. They feared consequence more than they desired independence. They wanted stability. Deucalion gave it to them. Gina was slowly realizing that she was the upstart. Her plan was flawed.  
“He’s teaching me how to stand up to you, that’s a good start," she scoffed. "Something you’ll have to worry about from now on, since I’m no longer your pawn. I’ve transcended beyond these ‘newbs’.”  
It was a step too far. In trying to coax them from their misplaced loyalty, she had insulted the pack as a whole. As fresh Alphas, they were bound to Deucalion as strongly as she was in the beginning. They converged on her at once. Her body, still sore from Peter’s training was still several steps ahead of Deucalion’s brood. She feinted left and sprinted right, catching a chair by its arm and flinging it behind her. Harrison, the wolf in khakis, dodged too clumsily and was hit hard on his right shoulder, sending him spinning to the floor.  
The girl was on her heels, faster than the boy. She lunged with all claws out, but had compromised her footing, going completely airborne. Gina stopped abruptly and ducked, reaching up and grabbing the girl before redirecting her into a table. She smashed it into splinters. But Gina was overtaken by the younger one, who had held out until the right moment. He tackled her to the ground, snarling, biting and scratching as fast as he could but with no clear order or rhythm. Gina kicked him off, but was then overtaken by Harrison, fully recovered, and then again by the girl.  
Deucalion walked slowly over and then ordered them off her. Gina took off towards the door, clutching her bleeding, dislocated arm and stumbling over her torn jeans. “You see,” Deucalion called after her. “I can do without you. But now that you’ve chosen this path, I will ensure that you will experience as much pain as I can promise. Just ask Derek if you need any further explanation.”  
***  
Stiles got a call from his dad, who had been out on duty with his other officers. The watch had since dispersed, with the police maintaining order and, unfortunately, waiting for bodies while the werewolves tried to track down Deucalion’s brood. Cora made it her mission to find Peter, who had been slinking away more often than usual. She had a sinking suspicion that there was some sort of link between Peter’s reluctance to help them and Gina’s breaking out of jail. Especially considering Lydia’s part to play. Aiden hadn't been much help, only reaffirming that Deucalion was a complete sociopath who was very skilled in manipulating his people into following him.  
“Dad, what is it?”  
“We found another body. One guess as to who called it in.”  
“Lydia?”  
“Bingo. Why is it her? Why does she always find them?”  
“She’s...psychic,” Stiles tried.  
“Stiles...the truth?”  
“She’s a Banshee, it’s somehow part of her ‘repertoire’ of weird behaviors no one can explain.”  
“I’ll just go with the first one.”  
“Where did you find it?”  
“The old bank we went through some time ago.”  
 _That’s odd,_ Stiles' mind raced. _Deucalion made sure to cover his tracks so that no one would go there anymore. He removed the body Lydia found in her trance._ Stiles did a full body cringe as he remembered being in the passenger's seat while Lydia drove with a deathwish. _Why put the body back? Why return to the scene? it’s no longer the site of Endgame…_  
 _But,_ he reconsidered, _Given that no one suspects to go there any longer, he can catch the stragglers to put into his pack and keep the bank as his base, like old times!_ “This has Deucalion written all over it.”  
“I’ll believe it. It looked like this kid was beaten up, though. Hold on, what?”  
On the other line, Stiles could hear a frantic voice trying their damndest to be heard. There was a string of curses before there were awkward muffles.  
“Stiles?”  
“Lydia?!”  
“Stiles, this kid wasn't just murdered, he was beaten gladiator style! It's awful, really awful. They came together, both of them. They met Deucalion, and he chose one of them. I saw it!” Lydia’s voice was harried, she wasn’t pausing for breath, even though it was clear from the fever-pitch and velocity at which she vomited information that she needed to. Rather than telling her to slow down, Stiles tried to grab as much of it as he could. “So you’re saying Deucalion made one kill the other?”  
“Yes!” Lydia cried. “Oh...God…the anguish I feel, they felt. It's just too horrible,” she sounded like she was either going to faint or be sick. The Sheriff was quick to take the line back.  
“Is she going to be okay?” Stiles gripped his desk, almost yelling into the phone.  
“We’ve got her in a car. What I want to know is how she got out of jail. We changed the lock and everything.”  
“Does she have bobby pins in her hair?”  
There was silence on the other line, and then "Her hair's a mess, I bet a couple are miss…” then Stiles’ dad understood. “You’re kidding me. This girl can pick locks without even being conscious?”  
“Like I said, ‘odd repertoire of things we can’t explain’. I’ll call Scott.”  
Scott’s family was home for a rare event; dinner at the TV. For once, his mom had gotten the night off and they had ordered out. Isaac was joining them of course, having nowhere else to go but to the home of his friend and Alpha. Melissa had agreed to it, asking Isaac herself if he would live with them, and Scott was all the happier for it. Isaac was accepted in a home that was divided not by hate, intimidation, or fear, but simply by circumstance. They were channel surfing for the time being. “Stop,” Scott said to his mom as her finger paused over the button. It was a news station saying that another body had been found. Worse still, that it was covered in a mixture of bruises over broken bones and littered with claw and bite marks. They could only hear so much before having to navigate away. Scott saw how uncomfortable it made his mom and forced her to change it until they had settled on a political satire show.  
“So Deucalion’s struck again,” Isaac retreated into the couch.  
“Made that guy’s friend kill him,” Scott shook his head. “According to Lydia. Stiles just told me."   
"This isn’t getting any better," Melissa said solemnly.   
"We have to try harder" Isaac grasped at his temples. "We gotta work faster to find out what he’s-”  
There was a thump at the door. Everyone sat bolt upright. Isaac and Scott were ready to pounce into wolf mode, but Scott held a finger to his mouth. He edged towards the door and called out “Hello?”  
Another thump, this one sounded like a fist that hit the door and then slid down. There was the sound of a large mass hitting the door at full force, and then hitting the ground with a labored “oof”.  
Scott and Isaac stood at the door, holding the knob or ready to defend. Scott peered out the window and signaled for the door to be opened with haste. They swung it open and found a bloody mess of torn fabric and reddish hair piled in a heap. “Gina!” Isaac threw himself at her.  
“Isaac!” Scott tried to pull him away, fearful this was a trick, or that Deucalion was close by. But their senses, though deployed too late to have fended off an ambush, detected no one else in the vicinity. They were lucky.  
“Gina, what the hell are you doing here?” Isaac repositioned her to look up at him.  
“I couldn’t go home looking like this, numbskull,” she sputtered blood. “I’m supposed to be in jail, remember?”  
“So you’re the reason Isaac’s had to buy new shirts,” Scott’s mom mumbled as she directed them inside. “Get her comfortable. I want to look at her.”  
“This bull again,” she groaned.  
“Do you want a hospital this time?” Isaac asked pointedly.  
“Shut up and help me with my arm. I think it’s dislocated.”  
“How the hell did this happen? Peter?”  
Gina shook her head, but stopped before swinging it back and winced instead from the pain. “Peter’s been helping me get fit enough to go against Deucalion. He wants us to work together to beat him, but I don't trust him, so I tried to confront Deucalion on my own. Stupid, I know.”  
“Incredibly,” Scott scolded with real fear behind it. He had nearly lost his mother to him, and knew Deucalion did not play.  
“But his Alphas are new. I thought I could beat them. I almost would've if they didn’t jump me. They’re capable of listening to other Alphas, too. They just don’t know how independent they can be. They don’t realize that the Alpha Voice doesn’t have to work on them. But I wasn’t convincing enough.”  
“How many of them are there?”  
“Three.”  
“Counting Deucalion or not counting Deucalion?”  
“Not.”  
Scott ran his fingers through his hair while his mother did her best to tend the wounds. “I’m going to have to give stitches since your...healing...thing isn’t working.”  
“Wounds from other Alphas don’t heal quickly,” Isaac grumbled as she fetched the needle and thread. He took Gina’s hand in both of his as Melissa dunked the needle repeatedly in peroxide.  
“This is going to hurt, just a warning.”  
“It can’t really hurt much more than my entire body does right now,” Gina grimaced. “Just give me something to bite so I don’t scream like a baby.”  
“You’re a lot tougher than you look, Gina,” Isaac tried to reassure her.  
“I dunno, I think I look pretty ‘devil may care’ right now. That or survivor of the zombie apocalypse.”  
“Or someone from ‘Saw’,” Isaac couldn’t help but feel dreadful at how bloody and crumpled Gina looked. _Deucalion wouldn’t kill her. Three Alphas on one and she managed to escape. That or he let her._  
“In case you’re wondering, which I figured you were,” Gina clamped her jaws down hard as the needle swerved in and out of her flesh, closing it up where claws and teeth had rent it apart. “Deucalion let me go. I was doing pretty well, I won’t lie,” she whimpered as the needle tugged on the thread, “but Deucalion’s got bigger plans than I thought. He doesn’t need me in his pack. That doesn’t matter. He’s got a lot to do.”  
“You thought you could kill him yourself?” Scott barked.  
“Hell no,” Gina snarled back, baring her fangs as Melissa finished the first wound. She leaped back with caution as Gina’s muscles spasmed, causing her hands to flail outward with claws extended. “Sorry, Ms. McCall. I’ll try to keep still.”  
“It’s okay, mom,” Scott put his hands on Gina’s shoulders. “Ready.”  
“That’s really not necessary,” Gina glared at him. “But I’ll allow it. Scott," Gina's voice betrayed a tremor, "I would be really worried about him right now.”  
“You think I’m not?”  
“I think you aren’t enough.”  
"I've dealt with him before, before you came into the picture," Scott said coolly. "I know how worried I should be."  
Gina shook her head more fervently. "This isn't like then."  
“Did Deucalion say anything to you?” asked Isaac, breaking the tension.  
“Not directly,” Gina howled as the needle went weaving through the underside of her arm. “But he insinuated that Peter and him have some sort of deal; that I got broken out of jail by one to be used by the other.”  
“Jeese…” Isaac exhaled nervously. It confirmed his suspicions, which brought neither relief nor satisfaction.  
“That’s not the worst part,” Gina informed hurriedly, racing the pain she knew she would expect from Melissa’s medical sewing. “He’s got more than one goal in mind. I don’t know what they are, but bringing you down Scott could be one of them. Rebuilding his pack is clearly another. But there are others I can’t figure out, ones that scare me more than that.”  
“Jeese Gina, it sounds like you were just there sizing him up,” Scott said testing.  
“I was.”  
“And you just hoped he wouldn’t kill you?” Isaac was defensive. Offended.  
“I reiterate numbskull,” Gina thwapped him lightly with her hand as he held it, “I’m not stupid. Deucalion said that he was picking his Alphas ‘in my image’. He put the flyers out to test people so that when they came, he knew already how smart they were, how cunning. That they had initiative. The kind of shit that would make you a pretty good Alpha. All because he bit me by mistake and learned how to do it. He’s got three that way. YEAOW!” she exclaimed as Melissa’s needle went deep.  
“I’m sorry,” she pushed back as Gina’s body went stiff as a board. “This one’s deep, I gotta try to prevent scarring or additional tearing! Just a few more, then we’ll treat with peroxide.”  
“Sorry,” Gina whined. “Scott, if you wouldn’t mind awfully even though I know you owe me nothing - in fact, if you wanted to land a blow or two yourself, I would understand - but at least afterwards, could you do that hand suck thingy? I just want to make this as easy for your mom as possible.”  
Scott eyed her warily, but as she jerked and spasmed in pain, watched her eyes roll and flutter to the back of her head as if trying to escape, his burning thirst to take vengeance for wounding Isaac, for putting his friends in danger and for getting Lydia to take her place faded away. As she sat on the couch trying to contain herself - blood, pain and tears - she lost her previous threatening air. He took her hand in his and pulled. He went stiff too as he took it, having to slightly rock back and forth as he withdrew her pain from her body in order to deal with it himself. He pulled away as if breaching the surface of a dark pool with no breath to spare, gasping.  
“Thanks, Scott,” Gina said with a voice imbued with sincerity. “It means a lot to me, even though I’m the biggest pain in the ass this side of California.”  
“Second biggest,” Isaac said with his bite of dark humor. “Deucalion’s way worse.”  
Scott was unamused, as was his mom, but Gina took it well. “Comforting, Isaac, that I fall right behind a psychotic serial killer.”  
Isaac shrugged and laughed despite himself.  
“There,” Ms McCall got up. “I’m glad I kept my scrubs on despite not being called in. We’ll treat with less painful means, okay?”  
Gina nodded. “I look forward to it. Scott?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Forget what I said during the first moon. I’m glad you’re the true Alpha. You’re good at it.”  
“Thanks. I’m...trying.”  
“Your arm,” Isaac whispered. He helped Gina to her feet and Scott pulled her against him like a living wall. Scott’s mom returned and instructed them carefully as Isaac pulled and then pushed. There was a horrific snapping sound and Gina roared, but she sat back down on the couch and quietly moved her arm.  
***  
In a half hour, the entire collection with the exception of the Sheriff had arrived at Scott’s place. The Argents Allison and Chris had arrived fully armed, ready for a fight. Derek and Cora arrived as well in full wolf form. Stiles had arrived and so did the twins. They were not expecting to see Gina, and especially not in such condition.  
“You look like Frankenstein.”  
“You look like an idiot for referring to me as the professor and not the monster, you clot,” Gina smirked. “Nice to see you too, Stiles.”  
“What’s going on?” demanded Allison.  
“We heard the roar,” explained her dad.  
“That would have been me,” Gina squeaked. “Sorry. No harm no foul?”  
“Except to your entire body,” said Derek.  
"You look like you fought a wood chipper and lost," Allison tried to be light.   
Gina explained what had happened. Everyone argued for a while over what this meant until Scott silenced them all. His Alpha authority still held sway even over Derek, a former-Alpha. “We’ve got to prepare.”  
“What about her?” Cora gestured.  
“Bring me back to Peter,” Gina said. Everyone immediately voiced their protest. Scott had to silence them again.  
“No really,” Gina pushed. “He’s training me to help take down Deucalion. I know he’s got his own mission, his own agenda, but for the time being he’s really helping me. He’s keeping me away from you guys and keeping me away from the public eye. In my opinion, it’s kind of the best place for me to be right now. ‘Out of the way,’ right Derek?” This last statement was made rather harshly in Derek’s direction. He took a really long time to blink, which indicated to her that he wished not to voice his agreement.  
“I hate this plan,” Stiles shook his head.  
“But it’s actually sound,” Scott grumbled.  
Stiles filled them in on what Deaton had explained surrounding the institute. Gina elaborated on what Peter had told her about Deucalion. What they knew so far was thus: Deucalion had had his plans from the beginning. Being rejected by the institute had forced him to reevaluate these values, but they were reignited when he encountered Gerard. When he was defeated by Scott, he only paused in that his initial plans had failed, and that by an unfortunate accident surrounding Gina, his unwilling and unintentional test subject, Deucalion planned to fortify himself with what they deemed ‘natural born’ Alphas. In Alphas he saw perfection, and in his quest to attain perfection he was willing to throw anyone in his way, grasp it by any means, even if it meant clutching and tearing through throats.  
“We do have one tactical advantage I was able to surmise from my little ‘outing’,” Gina quipped. “The Alphas are totally vanilla. Little training. I woulda won if it was a fair match, and Peter’s only had me a couple days, Isaac a few, and Scott a week. This could help you all immensely.”  
Mr. Argent and Derek nodded. “But we’ll still need a solid plan. Let’s collect Deaton and regroup.”  
“Gina,” Scott said, “I’m going with them. You stay here with Isaac.”  
“Whatever,” Gina rolled over glumly, blocking them out. “I’ll try not to bleed everywhere. No guarantees.” Peter and Deucalion's words began to sting. _Even after everything I've done..._ she sighed as they left. They all filed out in their cars and headed to Deaton’s.  
“Here,” Ms McCall said, offering her some folded scrubs. “Go take a shower and clean up a bit. You can wear these while I try to throw your clothes in the wash.”  
“Thank you,” Gina said, taken aback. "Though I figure I'll end up burning them anyway at some point."  
“It’s my job to take care of the sick and wounded,” Melissa patted her knee gently. “As it’s Scott’s job to protect the...werewolves from getting...that way.”  
Taking a shower was painful at first, but then the hot water acted as a muscle relaxant. But she was eager to get out all the same. Gina ran her fingers along all the stitch wounds and willed herself to heal over them as the water from her shower beaded over her skin. But her powers weren’t strengthened against the damage Deucalion’s Alphas had inflicted. _This is bullshit,_ she thought.  
Isaac knocked on the door.  
“Come in.”  
He started to open the door and suddenly withdrew immediately. “Are you...dressed?”  
“I mean, scrubs are glorified pajamas, so technically speaking, yes.” Gina sat on the counter poking at her bandages. Isaac came in and closed the door behind him. "I'm amused you'd try to come inside without even considering the fact I could be naked."  
“Don’t pick at them,” he grabbed her wrists playfully. His ears burned in embarrassment. “You’ll make them worse.”  
Gina made a face, grotesquely perverting a pantomime of him.  
“Seriously though!” Isaac said more forcefully. “You could have died.”  
“I weighed my chances on a particular circumstance falling my favor and I won.”  
“At what cost?”  
“You’re making me sound like I did something irrational and out-of-character, when I really served all of you a higher reward than what it cost me physically!” Gina pursed her lips. “I am trying to help you in any way that I can without getting in the way or being a useless twit.” She took Isaac’s face in her hands. “I know what I’m doing. I knew going in that Deucalion wouldn’t try to kill me, because of how he spared me every chance he had. By keeping me away from him instead of directly at his side, he showed that he still values me. I knew when I walked into that bank that I would emerge alive, but I went in anyway to see what we’re up against. Even you have to admit that I’m the only one who could have freaking done that and lived.”  
Isaac’s face was burning, seething, with the words he wanted to throw at her. That she was wrong. But it killed him to know that she wasn’t.  
“Was it a rational decision I made, having weighed all the pros and cons? Yes. Was it perhaps a bit impulsive to try anyway? Yes. But would I have ever tried it if I wasn't assured of my safety? No. I wanted to worm Deucalion into giving me the information I know everyone needs. He’s a narcissist, he’s arrogant, he likes to play games. I did a lot of psychological profiling with all the shit he put in my phone and in my computer. He likes people to know what he’s doing without being able to stop him. His downfall is in that precise trait. I gathered intel' that I knew I could pass on so that you guys could go after him with some sort of confidence.”  
“You could have died,” Isaac grunted.  
“I wouldn’t have!”  
“You could have, and do you know what that would have done to me?”  
“Stranded you without a Stratego partner.”  
“Left me with practically no one to fight for,” Isaac’s heart started racing. “Gina...there is no one on this earth that I care more for, would be willing to die for, than you.”  
“Scott’s your pack leader-”  
“I’m not talking about the bonds in werewolf culture,” Isaac held her shoulders. “I mean in general. You’ve been there for me when no one else was. You stood up to me and for me when I was being stupid and needed help the most. We’ve been through so much. I can trust you with anything and everything, even my life. You’re my best friend and I can’t...I can’t imagine a world without you.”  
“Even though I nearly killed you? Like, on more than one occasion?”  
“Yeah,” Isaac replied. “Because...I…well...”  
Gina pulled him by the collar into a kiss. Isaac is at first stunned, pulling away to reevaluate what just happened. Gina took his chin between her fingers. “I know, numbskull. I love you too.”  
Isaac withdrew his hands from her shoulders and slowly ran them around her waist, testing to see if he could avoid her injuries. Gina wrapped her arms around his shoulders and scooched herself closer, pulling him into a lip lock. One hand went to the back of his head and ran its fingers through his hair while he lifted her off the counter and pulled her into him. They leaned against the wall for balance, making a ‘thump’ing noise that caught Ms McCall’s attention.  
She knocked on the door. “You guys okay?”  
“Fine!” Gina and Isaac said simultaneously.  
“Uh...okay then.”  
They continued where they had left off as if making up for lost time. Isaac held her undamaged cheek in one hand and kept her pressed against him with another while Gina held him around the middle. “Lydia’s going to flip,” Isaac murmured between smooches.  
“What makes you say that?” Gina’s sarcasm was evident.  
“Nothing,” he sighed as he pulled her back to him.  
***  
Deaton, Lydia, Stiles, The Argents, Derek, Cora, Scott and the twins were all gathered at the police station. Derek and Cora had suggested they meet here instead of their house because of the new implications surrounding Peter. They had all caught Deaton up and were trying to come up with preparations for the Endgame, now only a few days away.  
Stiles and Lydia lay out the new flyer. The cypher was not hard to crack. Between Allison, Lydia and Stiles they had cracked it in a couple of hours after school. The new location was going to be the Beacon Hills Park.  
“It’s a good strategic location for a werewolf,” said Allison. “Tree cover. Right underneath the moon. Public. Even people who aren’t aware of the flyers will be drawn in. Bordered on two sides by woods.”  
“So rather than a cage, it’s an arena?” Stiles summarized. “Great. This just gets better as we go. Especially since this time he made practically no effort to encode his puzzle thing very well. He wanted us to figure it out.”  
“He wants people to find out, it's his recruitment strategy," Scott murmured. "This is his way of 'calling all eligibles'."  
"Deucalion is going to be taking a very public position,” Derek pondered, scratching his chin. “Considering he left his name on this new flyer. He wouldn’t go wolf.”  
“Gina said he’s got three Alphas, what about them?” asked Lydia.  
“Likely not,” replied Deaton. “though they may be Alphas, according to Gina’s account they are still loyal in their ‘infancy’ to the person who bit them. Deucalion has a hold over them, tenuous though it may be. He’s made sure this time around that his pack is compelled to do what he asks them, even if it’s not by obligation. He’s maximized the power of his pack as well as their loyalty considering.”  
“He’s thought a lot of this through,” Scott said. “We can’t fight him in the open. And if he’s playing host to this ‘party’, then we’ll have a lot of problems pulling him aside.”  
“We should use riot weapons,” Mr. Argent said. “Nonlethal, specific weaponry. Preferably something with a splash zone. Deaton, can we fill water balloons with water and mountain ash? Something that wouldn’t harm a civilian, but would be catastrophic to a werewolf?”  
“That can very easily be done,” Deaton smiled. “Might I also add the suggestion of wolfsbane?”  
“We can use the UV arrows too,” said Allison. “Try to make a flare border to house them in. Round up the werewolves but disperse the crowd. Those and the sonic spikes.”  
“I think Scott should bow out,” Derek spoke.  
“I can’t! I’m one of the only Alphas that can stand up to him!” Scott protested.  
“But last time he tried to collect you while also trying to bring you down from being a true Alpha,” said Allison. “Who’s to say, especially considering what Gina told us, that he isn’t trying to get revenge? Do it again? He certainly has the means. He could give you an ultimatum like before.”  
“He could try to get you to kill someone, or himself,” Cora added. “To take you down at any cost. At this point, I seriously wouldn’t put it past him.”  
“That or Derek,” Scott said. “He’s put Derek through the most hell.”  
“Well that wouldn’t stop me,” Derek growled. “I have a bone to pick and he knows it. If I have the chance I’m damn well taking it.”  
“What if he’s doing none of these things?” burst in Stiles. “What if he’s doing all of them?”  
“It’s a lot easier to play to not lose than playing to win,” Lydia continued. “Deucalion could have multiple goals. Fail-safes. He had them before, he’ll have them again. Peter could even be one of them. We can’t be sure.”  
“Lydia’s right,” Stiles said.  
“You didn’t have to make it quite that obvious,” Lydia flipped her hair. “But thanks.”  
“I say we go find Peter,” Allison said, cracking her knuckles.  
“While I agree,” Mr. Argent held her in check with a look, “I think we should proceed cautiously. Peter could be Deucalion’s second fiddle, but he’s no spring chicken to all this either. We dealt with him before. He’s sly. Cunning. Weaselly. For all we know he could be trying to play Deucalion. He could still be on our side.”  
“Or his own side,” Lydia chimed in.  
“Either way, we have a lot to think about.”  
“Especially how Deucalion managed to bite people and turn them into freaking Alphas,” Stiles shifted from one foot to the other.  
“Deaton,” Lydia said, ignoring Stiles. “I know how you can complete your hypothesis. I think I’ve reasoned it out.”  
“By all means,” Deaton gestured for her to continue.  
“There are ‘true Alphas’ like Scott who rise through respect, and there are ‘ascended Alphas’ like Peter and Deucalion who rise by force. But what about ‘natural born’ Alphas? Deucalion picked Gina by accident, but found the others and made them 'in her image'. Could he actually be on to something?”  
“The suggestion is that the relationship between mind and body can determine the outcome of the bite.”  
“But what if there are people who just have the innate characteristics of a true Alpha?" Lydia's eyes brightened. "What if people are really, actually ‘natural born leaders’, and are ready to accept that responsibility? Wouldn’t that mean that their connection between mind and body would prepare them for becoming an Alpha? That they could skip the initiation of the ascendance altogether?”  
Deaton considered this. “It seems plausible.”  
Lydia was on fire, and she kept going. “Scott was initially unwilling but rose to the occasion. It’s what kept him as a Beta while listening to Derek and having little to no control, to helping Derek with a pack, with taking charge. It’s how he rose. He was tested and came through them victorious. Deucalion and Peter took it by power. They brought themselves up because their personalities make them act cowardly, selfishly. It held them back, and they were able to overcome it, or compensate at least, only with physical violence. They forced their way up. Meanwhile Gina, who wasn’t particularly strong-willed at first, had all it took - I think, at least, and probably Isaac too- to be a leader. She wants to be a District Attorney for God’s sake! And look at Jackson, it was only after his personality changed, that he changed as a person that actually brought him from Kanima to werewolf.”  
“Or president,” Scott recalled. “That was her parents’ agenda.”  
“Don’t you see?” Lydia exclaimed, annoyed to have been interrupted. “Some people are literally ‘born to lead’, people who have everything it takes. To get to Alpha-dom, you become a werewolf and you pass a test. Is it not possible that Deucalion happened upon a way to single people out on personality, cut out the test altogether, and turn them into the Alphas they're already suited to be? He coaxed them into believing him about promises of power and he’s raising a naturally Alpha army!”  
“Lydia, you’re a genius!” Stiles pumped his fist.  
“Oh Stiles,” Lydia took a long, drawn out sigh. “I long await the day where you actually tell me something I don’t know.”  
Stiles felt deflated. “Did you know that the little divot thingy between your nose and upper lip is called a philtram?”  
Lydia looked at him like he was growing a nose between his eyes. “...what?”  
“Ha!” Stiles pointed vindictively at her. “Ha ha! That day’s come!”  
But Stiles’ victory was cut short when his phone rang. He answered it. It was his dad. He put it on speaker. “Another body?”  
“No. Something weirder.”  
Stiles looked at Lydia, who gave him the ‘what the hell is going on?’ look. “I didn’t have anything to do with it.”  
Before Stiles could ask, his dad started explaining. “Someone came forward an hour ago saying that they were responsible for the murders of those people. For the disappearances. They just turned themselves in.”  
“Who is it?”  
“One of the missing. His name’s Harrison Delward. He admitted to killing his friend Johnathon Howes, Richard Haggamore, and this girl who we think is Deucalion’s sister, still a Jane Doe. He gave really graphic detail that only someone at the scene would know. He’s covered in blood, too.”  
“What did you do?”  
“Put him in jail of course.”  
“This is too easy,” Scott slammed his fist on the table. “What is Deucalion playing at?”  
“You think it’s one of his Alphas?” asked Mr. Argent.  
“It has to be,” Allison slammed her fist into her palm. “It’s another game.”  
“What does this guy want in exchange for his cooperation?” asked Stiles.  
“He’s going to lead police to the remaining bodies. But he’s not being immediately cooperative. He’s avoiding the subject, stalling, asking for bathroom breaks, asking about people. I think he’s a plant of some kind. He doesn’t strike me as a killer. The guy’s sixteen and wearing a yellow polo for Pete’s sake. He doesn’t even have a driver’s license.”  
“If Deucalion is putting an Alpha in jail, he must be relying on getting Gina back,” Derek narrowed his eyes. “He must be confident he can bolster his ranks while still missing one.”  
“And he can keep an eye on the police,” said Mr. Argent. “I don’t like this at all.”  
“None of us do,” said Scott. “But we have no choice. Endgame is in three days. We have to work fast.”  
***  
Gina’s phone went off with another alarm. She hastily turned it off, but not without seeing the words ‘Three Days’ flashing across her screen.  
“What was that?” asked Isaac as he half-carried her to the couch lovingly.  
“Deucalion trying to freak me out, nothing too bad.”  
Isaac groaned.  
“We’ll get him,” she cuddled against him, squeezing him gently. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, we’ll get him. No one else has to die.”  
There was a thud against the door. They both listened with heightened wolf senses, but nothing. It was just the one. Isaac held a hand as he approached the door. He swung it open and was ready to snarl at the intruder, but no one was there. He looked around, and there wasn’t a sign of anyone; no car, no bike, no voices or footsteps.  
“Isaac,” said Gina from behind him. “Look down.”  
On the doorstep was Gina’s missing shoe.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deucalion makes good on his promise to seek revenge on Gina for her treachery at the bank, and like a stone striking the surface of a stagnant pool, the ripples are felt by all. Gina is forced to make a devastating decision between a terrible and a horrible fate, and her friends come face to face with the extent of Deucalion's cruelty.

“We just want our daughter to come home,” came the heartfelt words of a tearing Mrs. Frae.  
“She’s not a bad person,” Mr. Frae pleaded as cameras snapped. They were standing with the major. “She wants to help people, she would never hurt anyone.”  
“Nor did she!” Mrs. Frae said resolutely, the familiar Frae inferno blazing in her eyes. "The police have just come forward with the name of the killer that they have been after, the person who is responsible for the murders! Our daughter is innocent." Gina watched them on Scott’s TV screen forlornly, wanting desperately to reach out and hug them, to tell them she was alright, that she was doing it for a good cause. That she was trying to protect them. But she was stuck here. _It’s like I’m just perpetually stuck, no matter where I turn,_ she growled, emitting guttural noises under her breath.  
“Our daughter has dreams,” her father said passionately, “of protecting people. She wants a future. No one was harmed, she didn’t actually cause any property damage, I just don’t see why everyone thinks she’s so dangerous. She’s as harmless as any of us.”  
“If only that were true, Dad,” she sighed. “Maybe a month ago you’d have been right.”  
“We’re going to fight for our daughter,” her Mom’s steely gaze came straight at the camera. “We’re going to fight for her freedom and we’re not going to stop until she’s home with us again.” Gina felt as if her mom was speaking directly to her and no one else. As if her mom could actually see her through the lens, fiber optics, satellite reception, more cables and the LCD particles.  
Isaac sat down beside her and held her in his arms as she stared up at them.  
“You know why you can’t.”  
“I know.”  
“But I don’t blame you for wanting to anyway.”  
“I just want to tell them everything. Tell them I’m trying to help people, even though I resemble the Wolfman when even the least agitated. That I know why people are dying, that the real threat is the one person no one’s actually paying attention to.”  
“Oh, you mean our English teacher?” Isaac smiled darkly.  
“Yeah, he’s got something to do with it.”  
“You’re a lot like Scott.”  
“Really?” She muted the TV.  
“I mean it as a compliment,” Isaac drifted a finger across her face. “Scott’s pretty stoic. He tries to keep things as contained as possible so that people don’t get hurt, which is admirable. But I think he tries too hard to keep the burden on himself. He doesn’t often ask for help.”  
“So you’re saying I need to branch out for help more? You know, there aren’t that many more people I’d think to ask after you, Scott and Peter.”  
“I mean you’re trying to take the brunt of it too much,” Isaac corrected. “We want you to stay out of it not because we think you’ll get in the way, but that everyone knows how valuable you are to me. You were unwillingly brought into this pre-existing feud. We thought that you’d be better off keeping your distance.”  
“So I’ve not helped you at all? Is that just being overlooked?”  
“By ‘we’ I meant ‘most of them’,” Isaac clarified. “If you weren’t an Alpha, this would have been a lot easier. You wouldn’t have to evade your parents like this. You wouldn’t have had to put yourself through such a rough moon in a freezer in freakin’ prison. It’s just so regrettable.”  
Gina crossed her arms and flared her nostrils. “I don’t like being pitied. I don’t want it.”  
“I know.”  
“I didn’t want to be a werewolf. I certainly didn’t want to be an Alpha.”  
“You seem to take it pretty well, all things considering.”  
“My parents always said that if you want something to happen, you make it happen,” Gina recited. “And if you’re given the power to do so, you have a responsibility to use it to help others. I’m trying to do the best I can.”  
“Even though Deucalion was the single worst person to have been the one to bite you,” Isaac stared dreamily at her, “I don’t know if anyone was more deserving of this kind of power. You’ve taken it more gracefully than the rest of us, in my opinion.”  
“You took it pretty well.”  
“It gave me a chance to stand up to my dad, but that was vengeance-driven. Selfish,” Isaac shrugged. “Derek warned me about that kind of behavior. He told me what it would lead to. I think he was worried I’d try something radical, kill someone and become an Alpha like Peter. But you used your power you didn’t even ask for, and you’ve been freakin’ Batman over here removing the links to Deucalion’s plan and trying to face him off.”  
“You’re painting me off as more noble than I am,” Gina rubbed her side, which still bore stitches, though her healing was quickening. “I’m only a step ahead of Deucalion’s weakest Alpha. And I’m injured on top of that. I know I helped a little by doing what I did, but Scott was right. You were right. It was stupid trying to face him alone. I forced my hand thinking I’d gain some sort of advantage when all I did was weaken myself arbitrarily.”  
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Isaac kissed her cheek. “Will you be around when we get back?”  
“I should probably rejoin Peter. Get as much training in as possible before...you know.”  
“Yeah,” Isaac kicked his shoes on. “I love you.”  
“I love you too.”  
Isaac closed the door behind him. _Numbskull,_ she thought with a smile. She looked back up at the TV to see her parents still looking out silently. _I’ll make you proud. Both of you. Even if I don’t make it through this, I will do my absolute damndest to make you proud of me._  
***  
Isaac met up with Scott and the gang, who observed all the new posters with enmity. “We need to take these down,” said Scott. “Minimize the casualties.”  
“But aren’t they already posted on social media?”  
“That may be,” said Stiles, “but we can still do what we can to make sure as few people show up as possible. Let’s get rid of these.”  
“We should split up,” Lydia said. “Cover more ground.”  
“Since there isn’t anything hideous, deadly, or vicious pursuing us as we do this, I’m actually for this,” Stiles agreed.  
There was an awkward silence.  
“So…” Stiles attempted conversation as they tore down flyers. “Isaac.”  
“What?”  
“How’s Gina?”  
“Returning to Peter for more training. I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“Ohhhh kay then,” Stiles stuck his hands in his pockets.  
Taking the flyers off the walls and off lockers and doors was easy enough. But worming them from the hands of their classmates was definitely harder. Lydia tried flirting with people while Aiden or Stiles or Scott wrested them from their desks and tossed them out the window. Stiles bought several drinks from the vending machine to try to ruin the posters as he “accidentally” spilled it on them, either forcing the students to abandon the flyer, or abandon it long enough to try to clean up.  
But by lunch they knew they had only made a small dent. They had tried to clean out the whole school at a near Sisyphian speed, but had only removed a fraction of what had been posted.  
“Deucalion’s pretty damn thorough,” Isaac grumbled, bunching up a flyer and throwing it in the garbage.  
“Yeah,” Scott leaned back and massaged his neck. “This is harder than I had anticipated.”  
“We’ll stay after school then,” said Allison. “Make sure that they all come down. At least the ones we can snatch. It’s all we can do.”  
“I guess so,” Lydia sighed, glancing at her phone. She looked at it more fervently, then started texting like a madwoman.  
“What’s got you all excited?” Allison asked. “Is it Aiden?”  
“It’s Jackson,” Lydia furrowed her brow. “Said he made a breakthrough concerning Deucalion.”  
Everyone crowded around.  
“He says that Deucalion applied to serve on the council after serving years in the Institute, teaching.”  
“Well that’s no surprise,” Scott mumbled.  
“At least some part of him is real,” Isaac cracked his knuckles absent-mindedly.  
“He says that while Deucalion was ‘eligible’ with ‘outstanding qualifications’,” Lydia quoted, contorting her face in an attempt to emulate Jackson, “he was totally batshit crazy.”  
“That’s a very good Jackson,” Stiles nodded approvingly. “Actually.”  
“Define ‘batshit crazy’,” said Scott.  
“The Deucalion kind of crazy that we know already,” she said matter-of-factly. “Believes Alphas are superior, thought he was entitled to serve on the council considering his rising rank. I don’t know if he was an Alpha then or not, but that complaint alone shows the exact kind of tendencies that would upset that kind of council.”  
“From what Derek’s told us and from what Deaton’s said, that institute takes rank as a pretty low qualifier for actual ability,” Allison presented.  
“Exactly,” said Scott. “No wonder Deucalion was excommunicated.”  
“So we know that,” Lydia shrugged, turning her phone off. “Jackson’s useful for something after all.”  
“Which is great and all,” Stiles pushed his apple core around with his fork, “but where does it leave us?”  
***  
The Sheriff was sitting at his desk when a package arrived. He took it with interest and saw it was from the crime lab several towns over where he had sent Isaac’s bloody tee shirt, the fingerprints Stiles had collected, and hair samples from Mr. Argent. He read the reports, conveniently sent together.  
 _Hmm,_ he perused. _As I thought; the blood is Gina’s only, so she’s not the killer._ And the other papers regarding the hairs and fingerprints were a match to Deucalion’s alias ‘Mister Marx’, as he had to submit his fingerprints into the school system. _Now if only I could nail the bite marks._ He sent a text to Stiles, knowing he’d be in school. He got a message back to ask Jackson.  
 _Didn’t Stiles hate this kid?_ the Sheriff tried to recall. _Whatever, I’ll ask Derek to get in contact with him._ They had all exchanged phone numbers at the watch, so Derek was easy to reach.  
“Sheriff?”  
“Derek.”  
“What is it?”  
 _Straight to the point, these Hale people._ “I have some bite impressions Scott’s mom took to help us narrow down who’s been killing people.”  
“You mean Deucalion?”  
“I do,” the Sheriff relented, “but to prove it legally, to get his werewolf...plant, or whatever we decided he was, the hell out of my precinct I need a match to Deucalion.”  
“Is that even a good idea? If we release him, he'll join Deucalion's ranks. It'll be one more major issue." "And keeping him around to sniff out our plans is any better?" "One of the many facets of the game Deucalion is playing." "What if we held him so long as we can? Without an official warrant for his arrest, we can hold him forty eight hours." "That's until tomorrow though. You'd release him the day before Endgame?" "Unless the warrant comes through." Derek could almost be heard scratching his head the way he sighed. "What about the hairs?”  
“Match,” he said. “We can prove Deucalion was at the scene at Gina’s assault case, which is enough to put my force on him, but we’re talking about a serial killer. I’d need the SWAT team at least to take him down. That takes some serious physical evidence to get a warrant to do that.”  
“We shouldn’t involve other officers. It would increase the bloodshed.”  
“Listen Derek,” the Sheriff put down his drink, as he was at home. “I know you’re the werewolf guru or whatever, and you’ve been able to help Scott and my son. Which is fine. But considering what happened before where I was put in a root cellar, and almost twelve people died, I will not let you just ‘handle it yourselves’. At least let us lend firepower. I don’t care if it’s a werewolf or a freakin’ Easter Bunny, it’d be dead if we shoot it hard enough.”  
“By drawing more attention to Deucalion we’re increasing the casualty number,” Derek argued. He sighed. “I understand you want to help, but staying out of it is safest.”  
“But not the smartest,” the Sheriff countered. “We formed the watch. It was a success. If the police back out now…”  
“I understand,” Derek was frustrated. The Sheriff was frustrated.  
“Is there any way you could, I don’t know, get me Deucalion’s bite impressions? Like, wolf bite impressions?” _I never thought I’d say those words strung together._  
“I could ask the Institute,” he heard Derek say aside, likely to his sister. They discussed it before Derek started speaking to him again. “We’ll make a formal request to get them sent to you, how’s that?”  
“I’ll try to keep this quiet, just among my force,” said the Sheriff. “We’ll do our best to encase Deucalion’s sphere of influence, block this guy of his that we’ve got in our cage, out of our plans.”  
“Sounds good, Sheriff.”  
“Thanks, Derek.” The Sheriff hung up.  
***  
Gina found any excuse to try to help Melissa around the house, but was very often shot down. “You need to rest,” was the incessant reply. “You looked like you were a steak meeting the tenderizer. If you were any worse, I’d have mistaken you for ground beef.” She looked down at the garbage as she bagged it up. “Sorry for the beef references,” she wrinkled her nose. “It must be the garbage fumes getting into my brain. Really Scott? Two half-eaten burgers?” She tied the tends together and hefted it towards the door.  
“I just don’t want to feel helpless,” Gina shrugged as she removed the bag from Melissa’s hands and carried it with ease. “I want to be useful. I want to pull my weight. I owe you a lot for helping me despite what I’ve done already.”  
“You shouldn’t be lifting weight with your stitches,” Melissa scolded, taking the bag back. “They might pop out.”  
Gina snarled.  
“Go back to the couch.” Melissa pointed to the sofa as if ordering a puppy. Gina plopped down dejectedly and looked at her phone. It had been the biggest mystery in her mind while she had lost it, and now that it had been returned, it was a constant nuisance. A reminder of her captivity to Deucalion’s plot. She would be a part of this no matter what she said. She saw that her voicemail box was packed full of voicemails from her parents. She couldn’t bear to listen to any of them, but she couldn’t bring herself to delete them either.  
As if she was telepathically asking them to reach out to her, her phone rang. It was the home phone.  
“They shouldn’t be home now,” Gina said softly as she answered.  
“Gina? Gina!” It was her mom. The first one was a question. The second was an outburst full of fear. Gina’s heart started racing.  
“Mom? Mom are you okay?”  
“We’re…” she trailed off, pinching off the panic in her voice, “doing...okay. Sweetie, how are you? Where are you?”  
“I’m...in jail, mom.” She had to keep up the charade until this blew over.  
“They won’t let us see you,” her mom’s voice trembled. Gina was not convinced that it was only laden with the kind of worry one would expect from a stressed out parent whose kid was wrongfully imprisoned. There was something terribly wrong.  
“Where’s Dad?”  
“Right here…” she said. There was a moment of silence, and then she heard her mom say “please give him the phone, she deserves to talk to her father.”  
 _There’s someone in my house!_ Gina’s heart plummeted to her stomach where the acid started eating away at it, chewing holes right through it like melted swiss cheese.  
“I want to talk to my daughter, you monster!” came her father distantly. Then he cried out in pain.  
“DAD!” Gina cried out.  
Melissa came rushing in from the outside. “What’s wrong?”  
Gina looked at her eyes full of uncertainty, full of dread.  
“I’ll call the police.”  
Gina held out her hand and waved it furiously, baring her fangs at Ms McCall to keep her from the phone.  
“So, Gina. Do you doubt now?”  
The silky voice was unmistakable. As was the accent.  
“Deucalion I swear to God,” Gina had intended to sound menacing, but it all came out desperate. “If you harm either of them I will tear your head off.”  
“I would genuinely like to see you try. Though I can’t say the same for your parents. They don’t know much. I think it would shock them, especially to see such violence coming from their little girl.”  
Gina’s whole body trembled.  
“I told you at the end of your little ‘crusade’ that I was going to make you feel the consequences of your actions,” Deucalion purred. “I am a man of my word.”  
“You’re a beast,” Gina’s fangs popped out as the anger swelled within and covered every corner of her being. “I will stop you.”  
“We shall see.”  
Melissa stood motionless, observing Gina as she gathered what things she had and bolted towards the door. “What is it?”  
“He has my parents!” Gina yelped as she took off at a dead run. It was a trap. She knew this. But she had to go.  
She made it across town in record time, dashing in front of cars, pedestrians, bikers indiscriminately. Nothing else mattered. She didn’t care that people saw her very obviously out of prison. She didn’t care that people were taking pictures of her as she whirled by.  
She ripped open the screen door door, taking it off its hinges and saw Deucalion standing between his remaining two Alphas - the girl and the boy who she had duped - who each held one of her parents by the hair. Their feet were on her parents’ hands, which were pressed against their legs.  
“Gina,” her father whispered. He was met with an aggressive yank by the boy.  
“Not too hard,” Deucalion chided, observing Gina. “You can break someone’s neck with that kind of force.”  
“Mom, Dad!” Gina cried out, seeing her parents as helpless as she was to save them. “What are you doing to them?”  
“Exactly what I said I would do,” Deucalion held up his hands as if the matter couldn’t be handled any other way. “Making you feel as much pain as physically possible.”  
“Let them go,” Gina tried her Alpha Voice, but there was little force in that.  
Deucalion looked disappointed. “You can do better than that.” The other Alphas snickered at her.  
 _I’m out of breath, outnumbered, still injured, and if I turn, my parents will freak out._ Gina was lost, utterly incapable of finding a move she could make. _If I had come with everyone else, like we had the first time this asshole was in my house, maybe. But now..._  
“Close the door,” Deucalion motioned. Gina kicked the remaining door shut with her foot, but not before Duncan escaped through the opening like a shot.  
“Let them go, Deucalion,” Gina pleaded. “I’m the one you need to punish, not them. Kick me, bite me, harass me, do anything you want to me, just leave them alone.”  
“Admirable, but what makes you think I would even consider?” Deucalion cocked his head curiously. “You’re in no position to bargain. You have no cards.”  
“You said you’d punish me,” Gina whined desperately, trying to keep everyone’s focus on her. “You said you would make me pay.”  
“And that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Deucalion smiled wickedly. “But, since you’ve done so much for us in the long run, I’ll make you a deal.”  
“I’ll do anything.” Tears streamed down Gina’s face as she watched her parents observe their captors.  
“Don’t, Gina,” her father said.  
“Be strong!” Gina’s mom said. “Get away from them!” "We love you," her father said softly.  
“Since when did I ask for your input?” Deucalion snarled, prompting the Alphas to put pressure on their hands with their feet. Some bones snapped, and the Fraes called out in agony.  
Gina was ready to throw up.  
“As I was saying,” Deucalion paced between his Alphas. “I’ll make you a deal. I was originally going to just kill them right in front of you after I prompted you to show them your true self, the paragon of leadership that I molded you into, the perfect daughter that they had wanted all along. That way they would die with some sense of pride...but I’ve decided that it would be more fitting if you did it. You have proven yourself to me, to everyone, that you are strong. That you are clever. That you can lead by example...but them...”  
Gina’s body disintegrated inside of her.  
“They’ve kept you from being a teenager. They expected so much of you. They even wanted to fight your battles for you, to undermine your accomplishment against me with your little ‘vigilante escapades’, robbing people’s homes of my ingenious flyers…” Gina noted that he was blatantly telling his plan, which made her hopes that she could somehow escape with her family intact crumble. Deucalion would ensure that was not going to happen. “...It is not you who need to prove yourself to them. I changed my mind. It’s **they** who need to prove themselves to **you**. So, I want you to test them as I tested you,” Deucalion sneered. “It’s simple. If they pass, they live and transcend their pathetic existence as mere humans and rise to the pinnacle of strength. They would do you proud. They would do us all proud. Who couldn't be proud of the first fully-Alpha family of lycanthropes? "But", he continued venomously, "if they fail...they slip into the inevitable oblivion that awaited them regardless of what trifling accomplishments they hold dear now.”  
Gina was trembling.  
“If you try to leave, I’ll just ask these two to kill them anyway,” Deucalion said. “If you try to resist...we’ll kill them anyway. Testing them is your only way out.”  
“I thought you had multiple goals in mind, that you were thinking past pigeon-holed, hypothetical victory scenarios,” Gina said in spite of herself.  
“What can I say,” Deucalion relented. “You forced my hand. You’ve been quite the nuisance. You should be satisfied,” he turned to the Fraes. “I’ve been the one killing people; the unworthy. The weak. Those that strove for power but couldn’t accept it when they were given. But these,” he gestured to the three of them. “These are my crowning achievements. Examples of human perfection unrivaled even by others of their own kind. They shall prove the winners in this game. Them, and only them. And the key to unlocking such a force lies with your daughter.”  
“You’re psychotic,” Mrs. Frae spat.  
“Have your way with us,” Mr. Frae pleaded, “but leave Gina out of this.”  
“Do you not understand?” Deucalion snarled mockingly, going into his Alpha form. “Gina cannot ‘un’involve herself! She is at its center! She is the reason we are all here today, that any of this is possible.” He looked on at her proudly, and it made Gina want to crumple up like a piece of paper. "If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't be in your house right now. None of this would have occurred."  
Her parents shriveled in his presence, terrified.  
It prompted Gina to change, to defend them. To save them. To fight tooth and nail to her dying breath to keep them from Deucalion.  
“I won’t repeat myself again,” Deucalion growled. “Bite them and give them a fighting chance, or watch as they die before you. Either way, 'It will have blood;' he gloated, quoting MacBeth directly from his play. “As they say, blood will have blood. And the next full moon draws near. We're all a little lunatic, who's to say that my Alphas won't...slip...?”  
Gina fell to her knees between her parents, who could only lean in her direction. “I tried to stop him,” she sobbed. “I wanted to keep you away from him, so I hid. I did everything I could to hide it so you wouldn’t get involved, and I failed you.”  
“You didn’t fail us,” her mother cooed, trying to be brave.  
“We’ve always been proud of you,” her father shook. “No matter what happens, we love you.”  
“I’m not going to let you die,” Gina whispered, her strength utterly failing.  
“Do what you need to do,” her father breathed.  
Gina felt Deucalion’s claws on the back of her head as he slammed her face into her mother’s collarbone. In trying to scream, Gina had opened her mouth and sank right into her mother’s flesh. Deucalion held her there forcefully, smothering her against her mother’s own spilling blood before he ripped her away and threw her onto her father. She resisted, pulling back as hard as she could, but she was overpowered and got shoved into her father’s shoulder. She clamped her mouth shut, turning to avoid his skin and slipping with her mouth dripping in her mother's red life water.  
“Do it, Gina,” her father said so softly only she could hear. His voice was breaking. “Do as he says.”  
“I can’t…”  
“If it’s our only chance,” he said. “We’ll make it happen. We’ll force ourselves to survive.”  
“Even if you did,” Gina banged her head against him like she did when she was little. “He’ll still kill you.”  
“I know,” he nodded. “But he’ll kill you too if you don’t comply. Survive. Survive long enough to see his end. You have to continue without us.”  
Deucalion stooped down and grabbed Gina’s face, forcing his fingers into her mouth and then yanking on her to crash into her father’s shoulder teeth first. When he deemed her finished, he tossed her away like a rag doll to observe her work. Her mom was writhing on the floor from the pain, trying to stay conscious as her entire front became doused in her sanguine fluids while her father slumped forward, trying to kneel straight for Gina’s benefit. Gina was forced to listen to the anguished sounds of suffering as her parents slowly died before her, their blood turning horrific colors and their movements diminishing.  
“Now then,” Deucalion stepped over them and grabbed her by the hair. “Off to business.”  
***  
Scott nearly changed where he sat when his mom called. It alarmed everyone else, especially Isaac who heard everything with his wolf hearing.  
“We have to get there. Now,” Isaac scrambled for his things.  
“Are you crazy?” Allison barred his way. “This is Deucalion we’re talking about! If anyone can set a trap, it’s him. Once we show up, it’ll be a blood bath. The best we can do is try to intercept him later, when he’s not expecting it.”  
“So you’re saying let her parents die?” Isaac’s golden eyes burned in their sockets. “Let her die?”  
“I believe Allison that Deucalion doesn’t want to kill Gina,” Scott said. “He’s too self-centered to do that. But she’s also right about Gina’s parents. Deucalion knows by now we stand with Gina. He’s luring us to them. He wants to separate the group and take us out little by little.”  
“That and or weaken Gina to the point of submission,” Stiles shrugged. Everyone looked at him exhausted. “It’s a thought.”  
“We have to get over there,” said Isaac.  
“We can’t just rush into this,” Scott rubbed his temples. “Every time we react like this, something terrible happens. I know it’s hard. I know lives are at stake, and it kills me to say this, but I think we need to hold out.”  
“And just let them die?” Isaac slammed his fist into his locker, denting it considerably and causing people to turn their heads.  
“We need to regroup. Get Derek, get Mr. Argent, get everyone. We’ll go together. Spring Deucalion before Endgame. Pre emptive strike.”  
“I’ll get my dad,” Allison walked away, dialing her phone furiously. “I’ll get the twins,” Stiles said, taking off in a different direction.  
***  
In an hour, everyone was assembled at Derek’s place. Many were armed, especially the Argents. Scott told them as fast as he could what they were up against. They devised a fast and furious strategy; surround the house, single off each Alpha by pairing ‘teams’ of their own to separate them, and then Scott and Derek, possibly with Mr. Argent, would go after Deucalion. It would be up to Isaac and presumably Gina to rescue the Fraes.  
But there was a knock on the door. As Cora grabbed the knob, the door swung open and Deucalion stepped in. His moon crazed Alphas leaped past him and began attacking the company, who were caught entirely off-guard. Everyone fumbled to gain an advantage in the confusion as Deucalion held Gina in a headlock, forcing her to watch her friends get slashed, bitten, kicked, punched and generally beaten.  
It took a minute for the werewolves to gain their wits, but after the initial surge, Scott, Derek and Isaac regained enough wherewithal to begin winning. Dazed by how close the full moon was becoming, they were still able to see through their senses and harness their heightened abilities to counter attack their foes. Scott and Isaac tag-teamed the boy while Derek grappled the girl, with Allison providing back up.  
Mr. Argent held up his guns to Deucalion, who held Gina in front of him as a perfect meat shield. “How good is your aim, Argent?” Deucalion snickered. “How about your firepower? You’d better be prepared to kill me in one shot if you’re going to pull the trigger.”  
A look flashed between Allison’s Dad and Gina, a look of understanding. A signal.  
Gina hurled her entire body forward, using every ounce of strength she had left along with what she was lent from the moon to pitch Deucalion forward , and Argent fired a shot into Deucalion’s head that grazed him above the ear and shaved the streak down to the skin. Deucalion flung the girl at Argent and was ready to leap at his throat when Gina roared.  
The Alphas paused. Scott paused. Derek and Isaac paused. Even Deucalion and his Alphas paused. Gina got to her feet, her eyes gleaming a brilliant garnet red. “Enough,” she snarled. “Get out,” she flung her arm at the door and pushed her Alpha Voice down upon the girl and boy with contempt. Contempt that they followed a madman. With contempt that they were given the opportunity to protest, and they did not. Contempt that they had sat idly by while her parents died in front of her and did nothing, despite her hearing every skip and jump of their hearts and seeing the sweat pour down their bodies, and feeling the tremors course through their spines as they held her parents down. Contempt that put them beneath her. All this was cast into one glare, one Alpha snarl that sent them reeling towards the door.  
Deucalion stepped back, stunned, clutching his head where the bullet had passed. “The game is not over.” Without another word, his wolves retreated, confused by the moon and the two reigning authorities. Their leader surged them forward, but Gina forced them back until they fled out the door. Everyone collected themselves, dazed, haggard and shredded. Not a single person was without injury, several with serious ones. But Gina was the worst of all. Untouched by claws, but left utterly broken with many of her stitches dislodged from her affront to Deucalion. Isaac clutched her as she screamed. As she beat her head and breast and kicked. As she tore through carpet and slashed scratches along the hardwood. They let her.  
When they were confident that Deucalion’s pack was gone, a small team was sent to investigate the house. Lydia and the police were waiting. Two body bags were being sent out to an ambulance. Lydia was sobbing, unable to contain herself. Stiles and the Sheriff both did their best to console her, but it was like a punch in the gut delivered by a Roman wielding a pair of cestus gloves.  
Endgame was only a day and a half away. They had no choice but to form another meeting. This time Gina was present, sitting away from the table staring off into space and not moving.  
There were scratches at the door. Scott went to investigate, nursing a torn up leg and gouges across his back, but there was just a little terrier whining at the door. It was covered with mats in its fur, and leaves, and its paws looked a little bloody from a long run.  
“Duncan!” Gina gasped. “Oh my God, Duncan!” She started sobbing anew as Scott brought her the dog, who licked her face cautiously and wagged his tail.  
“Endgame is the day after tomorrow,” Scott said. “And we’re no longer in any shape to go after him any sooner than that.”  
“We have to play right into it,” Allison clenched her fists. She had been thrown around and sported several swollen areas and bruises. “We have to walk right into his trap at half capacity. While his wolves utilize the full moon.”  
“Deaton said our weapons will be ready by tomorrow,” said Stiles, who had cuts all over his face and a nasty gash up his calf, as well as several sore spots across his shoulders, ribs and back.  
“We’ll have to rely more heavily on them than I had hoped,” Mr. Argent tightened a bandage along his forearm. “But we’ll have the element of surprise. Deucalion is using the moon to maximize his Alphas' chances, but he probably doesn’t know about these, which should neutralize them regardless. He doesn't realize that we can adapt too. He thinks he’s ahead, and that’s exactly what we’ll let him assume.”  
“We’re forgetting one thing,” said Cora somberly.  
“Peter” said Scott. “He wasn’t here. As if he knew to stay away.”  
“Peter wouldn’t side with Deucalion,” Derek shook his head. “Deucalion is after things counter to what I feel Peter wants. Peter’s bad news, I can’t trust him as far as I can throw him-”  
“I dunno, he’s kinda wispy. You could get at least, maybe a few yards if you went wolf first?”  
Derek glared at Stiles into silence before continuing. “But he’s selfish. He goes after what is good for him. Deucalion threatens all of that.”  
“So what are your thoughts about the whole ‘you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’ with breaking Gina out of prison?” posed Allison.  
“Peter could have been trying to get Deucalion to open up,” Isaac offered. “He’s training Gina to help kill him.”  
“He promised to turn me back to normal,” Gina said, lifting her face from her dog’s bedraggled fur. “By killing Deucalion, I could be human again. Though I don’t see the point anymore.”  
“Did he tell you that you had to be the one to administer the killing blow?” asked Scott.  
“No, he left that pretty vague. He said I would help him kill Deucalion and that after he was dead I would turn back.”  
“That’s what he wants!” Stiles perked up. “He wants to use Gina to get at Deucalion, because he thinks you could take him, or his Alphas at least. If he kills Deucalion, think of what he’d become!”  
“I’d really rather not,” said Scott.  
“Exactly though,” Stiles continued.  
“So what you’re saying is we have to stop Deucalion and protect him from Peter?” asked Allison. “Kind of adding on to what we already can’t do.”  
“I’ll do it.”  
“Scott, you can’t!” protested Cora. “As the true Alpha, you’re the only one who can stop both Peter and Deucalion. If you kill one of them before the other is dead, you lose that. You lose the potential, all of it, to protect this town like our mom did.”  
“Think of the beacon,” reminded Derek. “This town’s going to have more problems than Deucalion. You have to think about the future. Losing your potential now could mean devastating consequences in the future. You have to think further along than just now, no matter how dire it seems.”  
“I’ll do it.”  
Everyone looked at Gina. “I’ll kill Deucalion.”  
“You can’t,” Isaac said protectively, but Gina waved him off. “Give me a chance and I’ll rip his goddamn head off with my own teeth if I have to. He killed my parents. He made me bite them and forced me to watch them die.”  
Everyone was quiet.  
“If Scott kills any of the Alphas, Deucalion or not, he loses his power. If Peter kills Deucalion, then Peter becomes as strong as him. If Derek can even get to Deucalion, let alone beat him, then that could work but, no offense Derek, from what I know you don’t have the best winning streak.”  
Derek rolled his eyes.  
“I’ll kill him. It’ll neutralize me as any threat to anyone, since I’ll be human. And no one else has to die. The killing will stop. It’s what...it’s what my parents would have...wanted.”  
“What about Peter?” Stiles asked. “Not to be the reminder of additional bad news, but we’re talking about killing one when we need to probably kill two.”  
“Leave that to me,” Mr. Argent reloaded and cocked his weapons with a threatening ‘click’.  
“I get it,” said Stiles. “That’s what Deucalion’s probably banking on. Any one of these and he wins. Scott kills someone, he wins. Peter kills him, we lose and Deucalion still technically ‘wins’. If his Alphas tear us to shreds, he wins. This is the game he’s playing. This is what we’re up against.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Endgame begins. Final preparations are made to the best of everyone's ability, but even then all Hell manages to break loose.

The forecast was supposed to be overcast all day with a chance of thunder showers, but would clear up by the late afternoon to early evening. “And don’t forget,” the weatherman said. “Tonight’s a full moon, awooo!” he chuckled at his own joke. Scott and Isaac snorted at the same time.  
“So Jim, is tonight going to be clear?” asked one of the co-anchors.  
“Don’t worry Maxwell,” replied the too-smiley Jim The Weatherman. “Tonight’s going to be gorgeous. Don’t do anything crazy! If something weird happens, just blame it on the moon.”  
The co anchors laughed their staged on-the-air laugh as Scott changed the channel.  
“Mercy,” Isaac leaned his head back and exhaled.  
“At least the day’s going to be terrible,” Scott looked up brightly. “With all that cloud cover, we should have an easier time holding our sanity.”  
“It’s not our sanity that worries me,” Isaac said distantly.  
Scott was quiet.  
“But we have the twins to help this time around, so that counts for something.”  
“It’s nice they’re not killing us,” Scott agreed morbidly. “Though let’s hope that holds out when they actually meet their Alpha face-to-face for the first time since.”  
“Is that why you’ve kept them out of this?”  
Scott nodded. “I know they’re friends with our friends, but I can’t help but fear that they’ll go back. It’s not their fault Deucalion’s a manipulative psycho, but he’s their packleader. I wouldn’t blame them if Deucalion got a hold of them again.”  
“So we’ve got Deucalion,” Isaac tapped a finger on the edge of the couch. “Who wants us all dead...or something just as bad. We’ve got Peter, and who the hell knows what his plan is. We’ve got us, and then the twins maybe.”  
“That pretty much sums it up,” Scott said as he put their cereal bowls in the sink.  
“I told Gina to stay out of this tonight,” Isaac said. “She wouldn’t have it at first, but I at least got her to think about it.”  
“And you kept all your limbs. That’s something.”  
It was Isaac’s turn to be quiet.  
“Let’s just get going.”  
***  
School had a humid dreariness hanging over it like a wet blanket. All day. Everyone could see the yellowish tint of the atmosphere and it dragged the ambiance of all the classes way down. But it made all of the supernatural students testy. Lydia had snapped at Stiles more viciously than usual for something even more trifling than what would give her license to do that. Scott, Stiles and Allison felt the darkness within them swell, pressing against their guts with anxiety, forcing itself to be felt. Isaac was weighed down with his feelings for Gina and his worry over her and his survival. Overall, the mood was not hopeful. Especially since nearly all of them hid injuries under their clothes from the other night. Even though Deucalion ‘granted’ them a whole day without serious action or any major deaths, it was hardly considered a reprieve.  
“There was someone on the police radio,” Stiles told them at lunch. “That went missing.”  
“Deucalion you think?” asked Allison.  
Stiles nodded.  
“That would make...five Alphas,” Scott concluded. “Him and five Alphas.”  
“He’s practically back to where he started before,” Isaac leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed.  
“But they’re less trained, less disciplined,” Allison did her best to remain optimistic. “If there’s one thing we proved two nights ago is that Deucalion’s Alphas might be bred better, but we’re the seasoned veterans. We beat them with experience.”  
“And Gina,” quipped Isaac.  
“Deucalion’s acting out of desperation now,” Allison shook her head. “Pulling a werewolf so close to the moon is dangerous, even for him. Before she died, Kate told me that the most difficult werewolf to catch was one who got bitten the night before the full moon. They were crazed with the moon powers but also confused as to what was going on to their bodies, so they lashed out at everything and anything. Didn’t matter if it was living or not. Their senses were in overload.”  
“How did she beat him?”  
“Well placed sonic spikes led him right into an electrified net where she tazed him out and ended him from a distance with a wolfsbane bullet.”  
“See? Terrifying,” Stiles whispered to Scott. Scott raised his eyebrows.  
“He was clumsy though,” Allison continued. “Powerful, extremely dangerous, but easy to take down. I think Deucalion has put his eggs in one basket, that his Alphas will be stronger and faster. What he probably doesn’t have is discipline and training.”  
“So you think we can win?” asked Stiles doubtfully.  
“Yes,” Allison said. “We go in as Deaton instructed us with what we’ve crafted. It’s a sound plan.”  
“But when have our plans ever worked?” Scott grunted. “We set them, they seem to go right, and then something always happens we never foresaw. We win a lot on chance, and we can’t leave it to chance this time. We can’t assume there’ll be something to help us at the last second.”  
Then the bell rang. They noticed they had a sub for English today, because Mr. Marx ‘was feeling under the weather’. “There’s no surprise,” murmured Isaac as they sat down.  
“Likely training the new one,” whispered Scott. They nodded in agreement.  
Their assignment was to determine whether or not Romeo and Juliet was a comedy or a tragedy. In the lesson plan, Deucalion had lined out the class time and activity. The class would take two sides; one to defend the play that it was a tragedy, and another to argue that the play was actually written as a comedy. He gave some talking points, but encouraged kids to find their own to bolster their argument. They were going to name themselves, but the only names the class came up with - that is, the two bros who sat in the back the said their ideas the most times - were ‘The Tea Bags’ and ‘Butt nuggets’, which the sub deemed unsuitable for academics, and much of the class had been wasted arguing over other names. The sub called one team ‘Tragics’ and the other ‘Comedics’ and let them speak.  
The first team began. It was Stiles who spoke. “Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy because everyone dies in the end. The good characters die because of either people killing them like with Mercutio, or because of their own idiocy, like the Friar not delivering the letter. You can’t tell me comedies end with mass suicide and a funeral.” He sat down.  
Scott and Isaac noticed how uncharacteristically stand-offish Stiles was being, despite the discussion not actually being that important.  
“But,” stood up Danny from the other side. “The whole thing is a farce. Romeo is like, sixteen and Juliet is like, thirteen. Romeo’s introduction is him pining over some other girl we never meet to the same degree that he later pines for Juliet. You can’t tell me that a play whose main character is a horny teenager who doesn’t actually think with his brain and flips his love interests like a switch, is a tragedy. Shakespeare is making fun of Romeo the whole time.”  
“If there’s any tragedy at all,” said Allison, who was separated from her friends only because her name fell on the wrong side of the roster, “it’s the loss of Juliet.”  
“Let’s not blur the lines that much,” spoke up the sub, who was timing the discussion.  
“Why not though?” asked Allison. “The play is as much tragedy as it is comedy. In ‘Much Ado About Nothing’, the whole deal is centered around a simple misunderstanding that gets blown out of proportion. The same thing happens in ‘R and J’, it just ends a little differently.”  
“I’d say,” Stiles cut her off. “One ends in marriage, the other would have ended in war had it not been for the friar.”  
“But the friar stops the war,” said Kelly, a girl Scott had been in school with since sixth grade. Not a particularly loud student, but someone he always knew was there and was acquainted with should he forget to do his English homework. “The friar ends the fighting and you could argue that, considering the circumstance, it was the happiest ever after the characters could have afforded.”  
“But the main characters died, as did the main supporting character,” said Scott. “And that could have been so easily avoided. It’s the meaning of tragic.”  
“Is that from your ‘Word of the Day’?” Stiles whispered. Scott nodded.  
“But Romeo,” countered Allison, “thought he was fighting for love, kills himself thinking Juliet is dead because the Friar, who was right there and could have said something but didn’t give his piece. Not because he rekindled the war between the Montagues and Capulets. Not because he upset his ‘one true love’ by killing her cousin. Because he suddenly has no one to live for. Despite having friends. Despite having his family. He’s the most insensible character, and one could argue that his death is not that tragic.”  
"If the poison didn’t kill him, the Capulets would have gotten him in vengeance for Tybalt anyway,” said a guy whose name Stiles knew was just on the tip of his tongue. They had Little League together when they were younger but had since drifted.  
“If anyone’s death was tragic, it was Juliet’s for having been pulled into this and then seeing her crazy boyfriend dead before her,” said Kelly. “Her plan was sound. It was great even, but everyone failed her.”  
“I just think that a comedy shouldn’t end in tears,” shrugged Isaac.  
“Whose side are you on?” Little League scoffed.  
“I never agreed to this discussion, I’m just calling it like it is.”  
“So there we have it,” the sub said when he noticed the classroom fall dull again. He went to the board and tallied the two places of the teams. By the time he tallied it up and assigned the homework, the bell rang and everyone left no more vivacious than they were when they entered.  
“Allison grabbed Scott’s hand as they left. “We’ll get through this. All of us.”  
“I just hope you’re right,” Scott turned up his brows in concern.  
Isaac had to sit through World History with the empty seat in front of him. He perceived the sounds his teacher made as he bustled about the room, and saw the words that were put up on the board. He copied them down dutifully as he knew he should. But he didn’t absorb any of it. His thoughts were on Gina. How they fought. How the argument got extremely heated and he thought they were going to have to fight over it. “I don’t think you should get involved,” he had said.  
“And why not? If you haven’t noticed, I saved your ass back there. All of your asses. If it wasn’t for me, you’d all be eating it.”  
“We were handling it fine,” Isaac had spat.  
“Sure,” Gina growled. “If that’s what you call ‘handling’.”  
“You just want to get back at Deucalion. You’re not thinking about what could happen to us.”  
“Am I not allowed to think about him?” she bared her teeth, eyes flashing stoplight red. “Am I not allowed to harbor animalistic feelings about the monster who made me kill my own parents? Am I not allowed to feel a little entitled to be included in the plans to take him down, or responsible for his success since he used me as a fucking puppet?”  
“Consider what happened last time, Gina!” Isaac’s bronze eyes flashed back at her. “The last full moon. You cut me up. Me, and you said you love me.”  
“And I do!”  
“But you could have killed me you were so crazed. Who’s to say that you’re not going to try to turn on us in the heat of it? Or that Deucalion won't pull an Alpha Voice on you then like you did with them just now?”  
“I would have you to ground me,” Gina said very softly. Not threateningly, but eerily soft. “Scott nearly killed Allison, could have killed her, but she was in danger and that overshadowed everything else. Why are you so convinced that I can’t do the same? That I’m weaker than Scott?”  
“Because you are,” Isaac threw up his hands. “Is that what you want me to say?”  
“Is that what you think?” she pulled up her chin.  
“You’re not as experienced, that’s all.”  
Gina ripped a growl from her throat without parting her lips as a cat would state its unhappiness. “Even if you don’t ground me, believe me, my thirst for vengeance against that bastard will.”  
“I can’t let you,” Isaac took a stand. “If we survive, and if Deucalion survives, and this whole thing turns into a tie, then I’ll let you come with us. But until then-”  
“Let?” Gina said venomously. “You’ll **let** me come along? No, you listen here wolf boy. I was the one who lead you in the direction of the map. I was the one who told you Deucalion’s numbers, and I was the one who stood up the best to them, who has sway over his Alphas.”  
“By how much?”  
“By more than you ever did or Scott!” she bared her teeth. “If anything at all, I will let **you** come with **me!** ”  
“What if I didn’t want to see you get hurt?” Isaac’s voice strained. “What if I didn’t want to see you meet the same end as your parents? To never get the chance to be at peace with yourself? Deucalion might use you against us still. How would it feel then to know we died too and you couldn’t help?”  
Gina had sat there fuming in a way Isaac would not soon forget.  
“To know Deucalion was able to manipulate you, one way or another, into harming us further? Into harming me?”  
“I will never let him do that,” she said with such hatred, it put Isaac on edge.  
“But he could,” he forced himself to near his girlfriend. “He could, and we can’t let that happen. We’re trying to be careful, more than ever. Deucalion’s proved he can infiltrate our protection, he can get to whoever he wants whenever he wants. If I can protect you, keep you from him, that’s victory enough for me.”  
“In case you haven't noticed, all your plans to 'protect' me and keep me out of it have all fallen to shit. Not always because of me either. I’d be helpless if you got in trouble. If you got hurt…” Gina’s eyes were pleading like a puppy’s now, momentarily subsided.  
“As hard as this is,” he stroked her cheek, “we would be safer if you held down the fort here. Protect our families. The people who can’t help themselves. The humans we’re leaving behind as we go to Deucalion’s party. They need your help more than anyone. If you can focus hard enough, center yourself, then that’s where we need you most. That’s where you’ll do the most good.”  
“But Deucalion won’t attack them” Gina murmured. "And if I'm away from you, alone during the full moon, I don't know if I _can_ center myself. I'd be a wolf in a sheep's pen."  
“If we don’t lose, he won’t,” Isaac said warningly. “But if he does...we’ll need you most of all. We need our ten with our twos," he tried to be encouraging by referencing Stratego. "And hopefully by then we’ll have knocked out his Alphas. Then you’ll get your chance.”  
It was another ten minutes, but Gina had agreed to stay behind. It pained Isaac to do so, to leave her at Derek’s feeling alone and mistrusted, but it was the best thing. Derek, Cora, Scott and him had all agreed it was the safest plan to make sure that they stood the best chance.  
***  
They were all walking to the parking lot when Stiles was met by his dad’s squad car. “Dad,” Stiles squinted as his father got out of the car. “Is this really necessary?”  
“Not really,” the Sheriff shrugged, “but it’ll help all the same. Deaton and Lydia were developing a wolfsbane vapor last night, as Derek told me, and I wanted to provide you all with gas masks. Figured what with organizing the other officers and getting the SWAT together…”  
“You’re getting my dad involved?” Scott’s jaw nearly dropped right there.  
“Not really, not exactly” assured Officer Stilinski. “But the arrest warrant came back. Deucalion is officially wanted for two counts murder, five counts kidnapping, one count theft and five counts assault on a minor.”  
“How did you manage that?” asked Stiles.  
“There were bite marks on the bodies,” the Sheriff explained smugly. “Derek asked the British School of Werewolves or whatever to send bite impressions from Deucalion. They were a match. We’ve got physical evidence to put him behind bars and now we have the firepower to do it.”  
“No we don’t,” Stiles said. “These are werewolves. You’ll need more than just forty caliber-”  
“It’s why Mr. Argent is arming them,” the Sheriff adjusted his belt. “No one better. We’re switching out their ammunition as we speak. So long as they open fire on tagged hostiles, which we’ll do with some of Deaton’s ingenious weaponry, they won’t stand a chance.”  
“You do realize that these Alphas are kids,” Scott said, unsettled. “They’re our age. They’re the people who went missing. The ones who were kidnapped.”  
“The ones who nearly killed us, remember?” Stiles smacked Scott on the back of the head.  
“They’re only helping Deucalion because he’s forcing them to feel obligated to him,” Scott explained. “He’s the Alpha who turned them, they must feel...indebted to him, loyal. They’re not bad people, just…”  
“Misguided by the absolute worst person,” Stiles finished.  
“Well we’re not gonna let them kill anyone,” the Sheriff said. “We’re ready for whatever Deucalion tries to do. I’m not going to let this precinct fall any further under the FBI’s scrutiny than it already is. We aim to protect, and that is exactly what we’re gonna do.”  
“Can we just rely on the werewolf stuff that isn’t lethal first?” Scott asked. “Use it as a last resort?”  
“Who do you think we are, the Wild Wild West?” the Sheriff gave Scott a look. “Just go into a crowded area, guns blazing like maniacs and not actually aiming for any particular target?”  
“So you’re not Clint Eastwood?”  
The Sheriff glowered at Stiles.  
“Shutting up.”  
“There just...has to be another way,” Scott shook his head like he was trying to empty it of distractions, to distill his thoughts into the answer like how one sifts sand for gold. “Gina...Gina used the Alpha voice. She convinced them to stop. Maybe I can too. Maybe I can prevent this from getting violent.”  
“We’ll see,” the Sheriff stepped back into his car. “Here.” He tossed out several FedEx packages at the boys, who managed to catch most of them. “Hand them out. And don’t forget to wear them to the party.” They were the gas masks.  
***  
Peter was crouched, taking in the smell of the target. Waiting. They were unsuspecting, moving towards the house without hesitation, without reservations. Without caution. Five more steps, four, three, two…  
One.  
He leaped with claws out, winding his arm back for a swing with maximum impact.  
Gina side-stepped him and hit him with the brunt of her palm, sending him off his balance enough to then sweep his foot from beneath him. She put a knee to his chest and pushed, catching herself with one arm next to his head and put her other clawed hand over his face. She twisted, breaking his nose, but hesitating.  
“You know, I wasn’t waiting,” Peter said from under her hand. “I would have made the blow.”  
“No you wouldn’t,” Gina said unamused, getting up unceremoniously.  
“You played off indifference so well,” he cooed, wrenching his nose back into formation. “I could hear your heartbeat. Smooth and unchanging as the sea on a calm day.”  
“That’s impossible,” Gina rattled without emotion, “there is never been a moment in all of time where an ocean has existed and has ever remained stagnant. This is prevented from the constant ebb and flow of molecules from standard tension between them or with the complex network of currents that run underneath the surface.”  
“Can you turn that off, or do you just do it because you enjoy it?”  
“Being a know-it-all?”  
“Yes.”  
“You tell me, you’re more in love with your voice than anyone I’ve ever met. You practically bleed snark.”  
“I can’t even be offended,” Peter got up, “when you say it that way. Where’s the scorn? The hatred? Jealousy?”  
Gina looked at him like one would at a child whose game was no longer funny.  
“Come on,” he smiled.  
“I’m not in the mood, Peter,” she slumped against the wall.  
“You’ve lost your mojo?”  
“I lost my parents.”  
Peter was quiet. “It’s eerie how matter-of-fact you are saying it, and believe me, coming from me that’s saying something.”  
“You had something to do with it?”  
“As much as that sounds like me, as I’m the first to admit that I have done some truly, truly heinous things in my past,” Peter rubbed his hands together, “no. I did not.”  
“I don’t believe you.”  
“You’re listening to my heart, aren’t you?”  
“You could tell me you were a yellow eared elephant and your heart wouldn’t so much as flutter.”  
It was Peter’s turn to be unamused. “I wish I could be impressed, amused even that you’ve figured me out, but your delivery, or lack thereof, just sucks all the fun out of it.”  
Gina glared at him, eyes glowing fire hydrant red. “You’re going to finish my training like you said you would, and I’m going to help you kill Deucalion like I said I would. I came back because I stick to my word. Now will you stick to yours?”  
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Peter smirked. “And don’t think just because you did your little Alpha stare that I’m somehow compelled to follow. I’ve got my agenda, and you’ve got yours.”  
“Fair.” Gina assumed position without fanfare. Peter assumed his.  
***  
Everyone was at the animal clinic, where the weapons were being stored behind a line of mountain ash. They had taken precautions to keep them where Deucalion was sure not to find them, and even if he did, they were in a place he could not reach. Among them were: paintball guns and various modified ammunition which were softer, more combustible paintballs rather than the standard issue in case they were to hit civilians; water balloons filled with wolfsbane and water mixture; canisters of compressed air with a nozzle that contained wolfsbane powder; hollowed eggshells filled with mountain ash that were painted a neon color in order to be more easily seen; Allison’s quivers of arrows of the UV light, explosive, and incendiary varieties; and the Argent tranquilizer with accompanying ammo, dipped in distilled water and mistletoe mixtures. They were handy and ready to go, though they were limited. The time to the party, which they had determined from the incredibly simple poster, was approximately nine o’ clock, so they had only a few hours with which to arm themselves. They had decided to break into squads in order to cover the park well enough, and each squad was required to carry certain amounts of weaponry for their ‘job’. Stiles, Lydia and the twins were in charge of shooting paint onto the Alphas, and preferably Deucalion. Scott had thought against keeping them away, and instead put them in the back, where they would be away from Deucalion. The paint would make easier targets for the sharpshooters Allison, her father and the various police officers that would be present at the scene. Isaac, Scott and Derek would help take down the Alphas. Hopefully they would be able to bring the Alphas to submission before someone was shot to death.  
***  
But when they arrived at 8:30, the party had already begun. Over seventy people had arrived, and there was a DJ already playing music. There was a bar set up with a giant punch bowl that some hired hand was handing out to people as they arrived. The Sheriff ordered his officers to spread out within seeing distance from one another, but to cover the entire area. Everyone was moving into place, but there was not a sight nor sound from any of the Alphas.  
“It’s wolfsbane punch,” Lydia whispered, as she pointed. “Look at the decorations.”  
Everywhere, surrounding the punch bowl, floating in it, and curling all around it were bouquets of flowers...of wolfsbane blossoms mixed with other seemingly harmless plants such as columbine and lillies. It reminded everyone of Lydia's other party where she had sported the same exotic, hallucinogenic refreshment.  
“I’m looking at how everyone’s acting,” Stiles squinted at the guests, who were cavorting and carrying on like they were all hammered already, stumbling with their hands extended as if they couldn’t see straight.  
“The wolfsbane cannisters might not even be necessary,” Lydia snorted.  
“Once we see the Alphas they will be,” Stiles assured. “They know not to drink the Kool Aid, but they don’t know not to breathe the air. It’s why we got the gas masks and they don’t.”  
Scott, Isaac and Derek entered the party as nonchalant as they could. They scanned the area, but the smell of any Alpha was difficult to pick up. The moon beat down on them, goading them, almost forcing them to change, but they held back. The darkness would conceal the claws, but not the glowing eyes. The teeth, perhaps not. The new hair, brow lines and growls, definitely not. Finally someone took the microphone from the stage to the far right and they turned to see Deucalion standing proudly at the front.  
People started clapping. It set Scott’s teeth on edge. Derek hunched slightly and Isaac clenched his teeth. Their hearts all started racing together.  
“Students, citizens, countrymen,” Deucalion welcomed them warmly. “Welcome to the party. Relax, enjoy yourselves, have general frivolity. And, best of all,” he said, “Relish the moonlight."  
Everyone started cheering.  
His four Alphas, two on either side emerged from backstage and stood beside him. “These are my four helpers, who will aid you in any additional desire you may have,” he gestured to each of them. “Austin,” which was the wolf that had attacked Gina in the bank that she didn’t know, “Julie,” the female who had been turned after Richie was killed, “Marcus,” the boy she had brought to be turned, “and Rubin.” Rubin was the newest, the one most recently reported missing.  
“I know that you recognize these people,” Deucalion patted the two closest to him on the back. They smiled in what appeared to be genuine gladness. “They went ‘missing’, supposedly. I’m here to tell you that it was all for publicity, whether good or not. As you can see, they are both alive and well.”  
“What’s he doing?” Isaac growled.  
“Clearing himself of blame,” Scott grumbled.  
“Putting himself in the spotlight, the hardest place to get him,” Derek corrected. “If everyone has him to thank for the party, all eyes are on him. He has them under his control, especially under the wolfsbane.”  
“Not unless we call the police on him,” Scott smirked. “He also put them on the most visible platform to aim.” He gave the signal. Suddenly blots of color starting popping up on the Alphas including their leader, who threw up his arms in frustration. But he laughed it off.  
“Someone brought a little excitement of their own, I see,” he said casually. “No matter. It’ll take a lot more than a silly prank to ruin our fun.”  
But they weren’t fooled - the werewolves at least. Everyone else laughed too, intoxicated by the wolfsbane mixture and unable to determine the difference between reality and dream. Underneath Deucalion’s cool facade lay a boiling lake of anger.  
“Ready?” Isaac pulled out his gas mask from his satchel.  
“Ready,” Scott and Derek replied, putting on their gas masks. They pulled the top of the canister and let it fly into the crowd as close to the stage as possible. Confused and startled, the crowd starting parting. Deucalion’s Alphas leaped off the stage to investigate, at first suspecting a stink bomb. But when they got a whiff of the compressed air and wolfsbane, they started reeling. Deucalion was no longer having fun, no longer amused. He cued the DJ to turn up the volume to maximum and used it to cover his commanding roar. The Alphas sprang into action faster and harder than was predicted, which threw off the aim of the sharpshooters. They made care to weave through the crowd, making any shot with the tranquilizer impossible.  
“Come on,” Stiles pulled Lydia’s hand. “They need us in there.” He grabbed the backpack full of water balloons and started tearing for the party from the tree line.  
But the Alphas were more prepared than they had been accredited. Instead of running as a pack into the open, they made sure to hide among the throngs, making themselves both difficult to spot and difficult to hit. Isaac, Derek and Scott wasted all of their canisters trying to disperse the crowd enough to find the other Alphas, but in doing so they created tighter and tighter pockets of people. It was like trying to corral smoke...with smoke. The Alphas flitted from one team to the next, trying to taunt the werewolves into separating, fighting them one on one. Derek and Isaac both knew that to go against a crazed werewolf, even a new one, would be suicide. Only Scott believed that he could prevail.  
Scott tried the thing he had come to do. He took in a deep breath, glowed his eyes, flicked out his teeth and claws and roared defiance. The Alphas were not to be seen. They didn’t move. They cried out to mask his roar, but they weren’t seen. Derek pointed to a gap in the crowd and went for it. Isaac for another, and Scott for a third.  
They found the Alphas crouching with their hands to their ears, but they straightened when the heroines showed up. They were waiting for them.  
Individual brawls began, moon-crazed Alphas against moon-crazed Betas. Lydia and Stiles came running in from the back, hurling water balloons of wolfsbane and water at the stage and where they saw crowds breaking. Stiles had some of the eggshells ready, waiting until he was at the border of one of the fights to throw it. But he only had a single carton full.  
Isaac grappled with Rubin, the newest. The most inexperienced. The most wild. Rubin came at him with crazy swings, untrained but unbridled. Isaac was able to dodge, but attacking proved next to useless. Rubin took hits surprisingly well for someone who looked no older than fourteen. But Rubin was also very fast, and caught Isaac at the tail end of a punch, or the beginning of a kick. Enough to send Isaac to the ground with a new cut, a new bruise. He raised his claws for an attack straight at Isaac’s face when he was smacked in the cheek with an exploding eggshell that erupted into mountain ash. The repulsion field from it knocked Rubin over, who clawed furiously at his own flesh and inched away, leaving a trail behind him. It also fell between him and Isaac, forcing him upwards and away from it. He felt it best to seek Derek or Scott. _Preferably Derek,_ Isaac resolved.  
But Lydia had reached him first, barraging Julie with eggshells and her remaining water balloons. She made sure to aim the eggs at her feet and the water balloons at her face, forming a semicircle between Julie and Derek. It gave Derek enough time to recover, but with half a carton for her and half for Stiles, there just wasn’t enough in volume to finish the process. The water balloons, however, proved pretty successful in stalling her; halting her moves, interrupting her hits, and giving Derek some room. However, the splash radius of the balloons made things very difficult for Derek as well, sharing of course the same weakness as his enemy. Lydia was hesitant to throw her remaining balloon, fearing to hit Derek where she wanted to hit Julie. Julie was the best trained, and she was landing blows almost expertly against Derek. What Derek nor Gina knew was that Julie was a red belt at karate before she was bitten, and that was part of the reason she was picked by Deucalion.  
Scott was faring the best, in that he wasn’t doing the worst. He was facing Marcus, and Marcus was by far the strongest, average-looking though he was. Whatever blow Scott landed, Marcus was able to match. Whatever quick dodge or parry Marcus made, Scott was about to counter only, but never attack. They were too fairly matched in ferocity and strength, but could not outdo the other in speed or tenacity.  
And then Scott got knocked completely over and dragged away. He looked up and saw Deucalion snarling at him. Deucalion threw him onto the stage and leaped on himself, landing nimbly at Scott’s feet. He backed away as quick as he could as Deucalion neared him. “You know what I’ve been waiting for all this time?” Deucalion flared his nostrils as he bared his canines and flashed his deadly all-red eyes. “Watching you squirm underfoot.”  
Scott rolled out of the way as Deucalion’s boot went crashing through the floorboards of the stage, temporarily trapping him there.  
Scott kicked him right in the back, hoping to knock him over, but Deucalion was slick. He threw himself into the kick, creating enough force to dislodge his foot and swung it back to knock Scott right under the chin. Deucalion assumed position and curled his fingers in challenge.  
“Why are you doing this?” Scott growled. “I’m not going to join your pack. And I’m not going to kill you.”  
“You think my goal is as simple as that?” Deucalion was offended. “Dearest Scott, true Alpha of Beacon Hills. My game’s changed. I don’t play to win, I don’t go for the king. I want all the pieces,” he smiled. “I don’t need to collect you anymore. You hold no more value to me now that I’ve managed to cultivate my own natural Alphas.”  
“Then why?” Scott ducked as Deucalion swung, but left himself wide open for the following uppercut.  
“There are many ways to win,” Deucalion said. “But the best is simply to watch your enemy lose.” He forced his entire body into Scott, bowling him over like the football targets improperly set on solid ground.  
“We’ve gotten your Alphas pretty beat, by the looks of it,” Scott smirked as he scratched Deucalion’s arm.  
“That’s a matter of perspective,” Deucalion purred. “You’ve also run out of specialized weapons, and my Alphas have endured.”  
“It’s why you used the full moon, isn’t it?” said Scott, taking a terrible knee to the stomach, and then a punch across the face. “To make them as strong as you can? You’re relying on that to win?”  
“That and so much more.” Deucalion went for the slash at the face, but was stopped by a concussive force as if he was punched in the shoulder. He clutched it with a trembling hand. “Wolfsbane...bullets?”  
“Did I forget to mention those?” Scott smirked, rolling away. But he was picked up by Marcus and thrown to the ground.  
Deucalion roared again, this time louder than before.  
“What’s going on?” Allison asked her dad. “He’s already got his Alphas fighting.”  
“He’s not going for power, he’s going for distance,” her dad said as he reloaded. “The frequency’s lower, it’ll carry farther.”  
“But why?”  
“Not all his Alphas are here,” Chris Argent muttered. “Sheriff!” he barked into the radio.  
But the radio was already packed with voices. From the bewilderment, Mr. Argent was able to discern three words: “break”, “out”, and “prison”.  
“The fifth Alpha is on his way," Mr. Argent grimaced. “We have to take him out.”  
“Kill him?” Allison asked painfully.  
“If we have to,” her dad grimaced. “One more Alpha could seriously tip the balance. We’re too well matched as it is.”  
To their dismay, many of the officers were pulling back, being redistributed so as to capture the loosed convict from the jail. But the Argents knew, and the Sheriff likely knew, that that wasn’t going to happen.  
“Dad, what do we do?”  
“Concentrate fire on the werewolves,” he said calmly. “We need to make sure they don’t kill anyone.”  
“What about the civilians?”  
“I think they’re getting the hint,” Mr. Argent said.  
Indeed, the throngs of people had started leaving in whatever state they became, turned off by the fighting and terrified by the ungodly noises. Fortunately, they would wake up the next morning with only a hangover and a terrible feeling that there was something god awful in that jungle juice. The mass conclusion would be LSD, which the news would then eat up.  
As for the heroes, however, the matter became much more complicated.  
Harrison, the fifth werewolf, drew out the majority of the police, who fortunately for them had the majority of the wolfsbane bullets, but unfortunately for everyone else, they had the majority of the wolfsbane bullets. It left little available ammunition for the Argents, who were furiously trying to land shots on the moving Alphas converging on Isaac, Derek and now…  
Allison looked down her scope to see who it was. They were moving quickly, but they weren’t engaging in any of the struggles. They were heading straight for the stage.  
“Is that…?” her father asked.  
“It’s Peter!” Allison breathed.  
Lydia and Stiles were trying to distract Julie from Derek while not being maimed themselves. Julie would rush at them and Stiles would try to hit her with his trusty aluminum bat while Derek would come at her from behind, tearing her focus away from the humans and back to him. Meanwhile Isaac had his hands - or claws - full of Rubin, who was tiring but becoming only more desperate, looking to the stage for Deucalion. For approval.  
***   
The shape came from behind the curtain.   
“Deucalion.”  
Deucalion turned and sneered. “Peter. I was wondering when you would 'grace us with your presence'.”  
“So you’re not surprised?”  
“Why would I be?” as Scott struggled with Marcus to regain the stage, Deucalion kicked Scott. Hard. “I knew you’d come for me. Power attracts you like…” he pretended to consider, “a moth to a flame. Is your plan to kill me? Become my equal, my better? Rule my pack?”  
“Any one of those would do,” Peter unsheathed his claws. “It’s nothing personal.”  
“No hard feelings,” Deucalion’s smile broadened, flashing his long, sharp fangs. He discarded Scott like a wet towel and pounced upon Peter, but Peter was faster than Deucalion had presumed. Well, not really. Deucalion had only done it to test Peter, and Peter had passed.  
“Stop playing with me” Peter said, poised with muscular tension and ready to spring, “I'm tired of your games.”  
“That’s too bad,” Deucalion gnashed his teeth together in a taunt. “You’re missing out on all the fun.”  
They leaped at each other and locked arms, equal in power, but not in strength. Deucalion slowly began to overwhelm Peter, who threw off the arms that clutched at his triangle of life and went in for a low shot. Deucalion stepped away with ease.  
***   
Scott crawled off the stage and was met with Marcus and the other Alpha, Austin. “I’m not finished,” Marcus growled as the two Alphas circled either side of Scott and the melee began again, but with a huge disadvantage; his wounds from Deucalion’s fight. Marcus had endurance like Scott hadn’t seen in anyone, and was outlasting him. He knew this. And Austin was getting in hits whenever Marcus moved in, trying to shut Scott in from two different sides until Marcus suddenly went down. He clutched at his neck and began twitching quite violently. That only left Austin, who leaped at Scott but suddenly left his view. Scott’s head snapped to the side and saw Austin lying flat on his back with a syringe-like dart sticking out of his neck.  
Standing above him was Gina, holding three darts in her hands that could only have come from Deaton's armory. She winked at Scott. “Help your pack, Alpha!” and she took off in Isaac’s direction. Scott took off in Derek’s.  
Julie was ripping at Derek anywhere she could land a hit, and considering her speed, that was several places. Derek’s shirt was more red than gray as he did his best to block. Scott lunged at her, taking her down with him in a very sloppy tackle.  
Isaac struggled with Rubin, who landed very quick jabs that didn’t pack as much force as you would think, but he would aim for the same areas, over and over again and hit them with near surgical precision. Isaac was in severe pain in the places Rubin concentrated as Rubin watched warily from the side. Cagily. Like a vulture as it watched its prey limp away to its chosen dying place where it would wait until the meal expelled its last breath. Rubin was waiting for Isaac to collapse. To stumble. Isaac knew this would be soon. He had not landed very many hits to Rubin, who had only a slight limp, but even that didn’t slow him down or affect his accuracy.  
Then he clutched his left ear and doubled over, crawling into the fetal position and began twitching horrendously.  
There was a hand pulling him up, and then two dusting him off. Then there were two lips on his.  
“Wha…”  
“Get back in there, numbskull. You’ll get yourself killed.”  
“Gina?” he asked dazed.  
“The one and only.” She went bounding away as Isaac collected enough of his senses to be angry that she hadn’t listened. When he had collected more, he realized just how glad he was.  
But just as Gina was about to leap onto the stage, Deucalion let out one more roar. Not at Peter. Not at Scott. At her.  
Gina was frozen in place. She fought and struggled and resisted as best she could, but his influence, bolstered by the moon, was overwhelming. It made every nerve in her body twinge in his direction, reach for his intention. It made her snap to attention like a toy soldier.  
“Do what I bred you to do. Kill Scott,” Deucalion ordered in the Alpha Voice. "You can't resist me now! I have reached the height of excellence, while you have only fallen further."  
Gina’s body stiffened like a board as she hastened to halt the process. But slowly she turned where she stood and glared at Scott with eyes gleaming blood red and fangs protruding.  
“So you want Gina to kill Scott?” Peter circled Deucalion, lunging and side stepping like a fencer. “Smart. That would rid Scott, some nicely packaged revenge, and make Gina as tough as you. But wouldn’t that pose a problem down the line? She’s quite rebellious I can assure you.”  
“A teacher doesn't need teaching," he rolled his eyes. "Especially not in matters of the obvious. But she wouldn’t be as powerful as me,” Deucalion shook his head, missing a swipe at Peter’s head by inches. “That wouldn’t be nor is it my only goal. Think broader.”  
“You want Scott to kill Gina?” Peter’s eyes flashed. “Truly devious, sir. Ridding Scott of his true Alpha potential and thus corrupting him, tainting his power forever.”  
“Too specific,” Deucalion smirked. “But possibility number two.”  
“You can’t seriously be relying on these pathetic excuses for Alphas to kill all of us?” Peter kicked, but Deucalion caught his foot and pulled it out from underneath him, dragging him across the stage before twisting his ankle enough to break bones.  
“Of course not,” Deucalion replied. “If I were lucky, it would be possibility number three; the most disappointing of them all. If not, at least it would leave enough of you severely weakened long enough for me to assemble my own natural-born militia. When they're well enough trained, they’ll kill anyone I think unworthy.”  
“Is it to avenge yourself against the Hales?” Peter gasped in pain as he rolled away, concentrating much of his focus on healing his ankle. _If I can keep him talking,_ he thought smoothly, _I can weasel his game. Catch him off-guard. Foil him!_  
“Possibility number four,” Deucalion walked over with claws extended, ready to rake at Peter’s neck. "My favorite Endgame scenario."  
“Doesn't it have _something, anything_ to do with me?” asked Peter disappointedly as he landed a good blow to the inside of Deucalion’s arm, causing it to fling backward with a sickening snap as Deucalion's shoulder dislocated. Deucalion retreated to fix himself as Peter straightened. “If I were to kill you, then I would become as powerful as you and likely just kill Scott myself. He’s a thorn equally deep in both our sides. The way I see it, that’s punishment enough for all of them.”  
Deucalion wagged a finger playfully. “I hadn’t considered. Do you know why?”  
“Enlighten me,” Peter said as he blocked Deucalion’s blow.  
“Because it’s borderline-idiotic,” Deucalion spat as he came in with another blow, occupying Peter’s other hand as he kneed Peter in the stomach, and then smashed him with his conjoined hands over the back. Peter lay sprawling on the stage, stomach down.  
Deucalion grabbed Peter by the hair and lifted him up. “You’re very good Peter, even I must admit. Great minds think alike after all. But you’re insufferable. Worse still, you have failed in your little endeavor to outwit me; to outmatch me. And I do not do well with failure.” He unsheathed his claws and was ready to draw the killing swipe across Peter’s neck when Deucalion’s whole body froze.  
“What…?” he pulled out a tranquilizer dart from his shoulder. “...Mistletoe?!”  
Allison and Mr. Argent were running towards the crowd, trying to eliminate the rest of the werewolves. Allison unloaded another one into Deucalion’s side.  
***   
Scott and Gina squared off, both eyeing each other down. “Scott,” Gina furrowed her brow from the effort. “I don’t want to kill you. I don’t even want to fight you.”  
“Then fight it!” he said, trying to force her down with his eyes.  
“I. Am. Trying!” she said harried. She neared him by two steps.  
“Gina!” Isaac came up behind her and grabbed her diagonally across the chest, pinning her to him. She was able to pull him off his feet to move towards Scott. “Think about us. Find your anchor. Find what’s important to you. It’s not killing Scott. It’s not killing Deucalion. It’s protecting your friends, and right now, they’re all in danger.”  
***  
Lydia and Stiles were trying to escape Julie, who was not sedated well enough to stay down. Marcus was beginning to loom over to Rubin, who were stalking Derek. Allison and Mr. Argent were unloading their very limited ammo at Deucalion, who had suspended Peter for the time, but was not going down either.  
Gina’s breathing quickened, her heartbeat was at a racing speed. Her eyes illuminated so brightly they looked like traffic lights. The only way to break herself of the spell was to match the volume of Deucalion's Alpha Voice in her head. To drown it out. She bellowed a roar of defiance that made all the Alphas stumble. Julie, Rubin, Marcus and Austin fell to their knees while Derek, Isaac and Scott all kept to their feet but were pushed down as if by the hands of God Himself, so they all had a heavy stoop. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like they were making some sort of perverse bow in respect as one would a king.  
In this case queen.  
Gina stood up and snorted, glaring straight at Deucalion. “I made a promise to you, Deucalion,” she growled menacingly. “And I plan to make good on it.”  
Peter took his chance and grabbed Deucalion, rolling him over and searching for the jugular.  
“As have I," Peter growled victoriously.  
Gina pounced onto the stage and shoved Peter as he sliced along Deucalion’s jaw line, missing two major arteries by a hair’s length. “You,” she kicked Peter straight in the face, which sent him reeling. “You tried to use me to gain power for yourself. You tried to use me, and I don’t appreciate it."   
"Figured me out, did you? What are you going to do now, little Alpha?" Peter jeered. "Kill me? You could. You'd have every right."   
"If I killed you, that would make me less than who I am,” Gina retorted with disdain.  
“Than what, a werewolf?” Deucalion leered at her. “A monster?”  
“An Alpha,” she said as she kicked Deucalion in the face, spouting blood from his broken nose and mouth. She took his face in her claws and squeezed, digging her nails into his flesh. “You’ve turned me against my will. You forced me to kill my own parents. Death is not good enough a punishment for you.” She brandished her claws and pulled away, readying for a strike. “But it’ll have to do.”  
“Go on then,” Deucalion coughed, spitting blood everywhere. “Gain your revenge.”  
“You're more of a narcissist than Peter,” she snarled. “You thought that what you did to me made me who I am. What I am. That your plan could boil down to me, but it was never about me at all. It still isn't, and therein lies your defeat. Your hamartia. Your fatal flaw."  
All the muscles in Deucalion's face and neck strained against the alarming force Gina was exerting upon him.  
"That's why you cannot win, Deucalion. That's why you will never have won, not in a single scenario. You assume battles are made for the Alpha. For the individual. That you can tailor the situation to benefit you, while discarding your pieces. It's like playing a game of chess for the sake of the rook, or Stratego for the benefit of the ten. You think of winning in terms for the singular, but that's not what Alphas are about at all. It's not about you, nor is it about me. It’s for everyone. Alphas serve their packs, not the other way around. You use others for your goals, when it should be you serving others. It doesn’t take a true Alpha like Scott to know that."  
Deucalion's Alphas started to rush the stage, feeling their leader was in trouble. Scott, Derek, Isaac and everyone else were in tow. "Gina!" Isaac was screaming. She wasn't listening.  
You're the biggest failure of a leader I've ever seen," Gina said with acute disgust, yanking Deucalion's hair back. Her claws were fully extended. "This would only be murder if you were at all human."  
"Do it, then," Deucalion sputtered black blood. The mistletoe was reacting violently with his circulatory system. "Avenge your parents. Watch as your dreams fall asunder. Stripped to your core, you are as much as beast as I am."  
"I'm not doing it for my parents, you imbecile" Gina nearly screamed. "I'm doing your Alphas, the innocent lives you've lured, a favor.” With that, she sliced across his throat, spouting black, arterial spray in every direction. The Alphas began to cower, feeling their source of authority, their fount of security seeping away like the wolfsbane fountain that had been toppled by Lydia and Stiles. They cowered in fear of Scott - the highest Alpha there - who was able to get to his feet and keep them from helping Deucalion.  
“Gina!” Isaac ran over. “Gina, are you alright?”  
Gina was doubled over, holding herself and rocking back and forth, clutching something in both her hands.  
Peter, stunned, was lying on his side, catching his breath and eyeing Gina closely, specifically looking at her eyes for confirmation of what he believed to be the theft of his goal. The realization of his dream.  
When Isaac got to her, he held out his hand to help her to her feet. As he tugged, she collapsed. He was quick enough to catch her as she fell. Her hands were clamped to something that was keeping her tethered to the ground. He removed her hands to reveal Deucalion’s claws, poised with all his fingers put together, like a blade, that he had jammed straight through Gina’s stomach. She was bleeding dark blood. “Oh God,” Isaac’s voice broke. “Gina…”  
“It’s fine, Isaac,” Gina assured him, but her voice came weakly. “It’s...how it should be. I guess.”  
Isaac shook his head furiously. “No. No it isn’t. Just heal. You’ll be fine. Just heal.”  
“I can’t.”  
“Yes you can!” Isaac shook her. “You’re an Alpha, remember?”  
“Alpha-inflicted wounds don't heal quickly. But even so, I’m not an Alpha. Not anymore.” Gina’s tears welled up in her eyes, which were fading from red to a stunning icy blue. But the brilliance was leaking away, pouring from her in her tears. What was left were two hazel orbs staring back at Isaac forlornly. “I killed the one who bit me. I’m human again.”   
Isaac started to lose it.   
"Isaac," she addressed quietly as he tried to stop himself from sobbing. "That's the rule, isn't it?"  
Everyone else dared gather closer. Deucalion, as Mr. Argent inspected, ceased moving. There was no heartbeat. Not a mote of life left in him.  
“Scott! SCOTT!” Isaac bellowed, his voice as shattered as a dropped ceramic vase. “Order her to heal. Make her do it! Please!” He was rocking Gina back and forth.  
“Shut up, Isaac,” she blinked. It was becoming an effort for her to do that. “That won’t do you any good.”  
Scott looked on helplessly, making sure the other Alphas went nowhere.  
“Gina…”  
“Stop being a numbskull,” Gina’s eyes never left him. “This is how it had to be. This is the best possible outcome.”  
“No,” Isaac denied. “No, it wasn’t. It isn't.”  
“I guess,” Gina relented. “But you’re alive. Scott’s alive. No one else had to die. Even the others made it.”  
Isaac looked over and counted the heads. Despite being full of bullets, covered in mountain ash and mistletoe, the other Alphas had survived. They were standing, dumbfounded in front of Scott. Their glassy eyes foggy with the escape from their reverie of Deucalion's promises. “You should have stayed behind like I asked you to.”  
“And miss this?” she tried a smile. “Are you crazy?”  
“Gina,” Isaac trembled. “I wanted to do things with you. I wanted to try to have something real, something good.”  
“And you did. We did,” she raised her eyebrows. “And it was fun. It wouldn't have worked though after a while. Me an Alpha, you a Beta. Trying to constantly not boss you around, control your life. We would never be equals. No, Isaac. I have no regrets...well, one."  
He didn't answer. His mouth was trembling too much.  
"I wish we could do it again. The making out part. That was pretty great."   
Isaac clutched her close to him like a broken doll.  
“It takes a long time for a body to bleed out when the mortal wound is in the lower organs, so don’t waste my time with sobbing. Sorry if that sounds a bit cold.”  
Isaac forced himself to be quiet.  
“Listen to me,” Gina grasped him weakly with her hand. He took it in one of his own. “Listen, Isaac. I want you to move on. There’s nothing for me here anymore. My future was gone as soon as I was bitten. My fate was sealed as soon as my parents died. Take...take Duncan. Find him a good home. Don’t keep him. It’ll just...be a...terrible reminder.” Her breaths came heavy and labored. “What a sucky way to get over a breakup, keeping the girl’s dog. That’d be a shitty favor. No,” she resolved. "Let someone adopt him."  
“How do I go on without you?”  
“Don’t you go Romeo on me,” Gina tried another smile. “You are not going to do that. If you do that, I swear I’ll kill you. I really will.”  
Isaac tried to laugh, but he instead choked out a sob.  
“If anything I’ll haunt you from the grave. Hold me to that. You’ll continue as you were. And tell Scott I believed in him. I always did. Now more than ever. He’s a great Alpha. Don’t ever let him forget it. I have faith he might even be the best.”  
Scott bowed his head in guilty pride.  
“I love you, Gina,” Isaac whispered. “I always did. I was just…”  
“A numbskull,” she finished. “I know. And I loved you anyway, so it’s really no big deal.”  
Gina grew very cold. The color was leaving her face, and her lids were becoming very heavy.  
“I know I’m not...going to be a DA...or President…” she heaved. “But maybe I made a difference. I hope I did. I hope I made things...better.”  
“You were terrific,” Allison said softly, holding back tears.  
“Brilliant,” Lydia agreed.  
“One in a million,” Stiles added.  
“That’s...a relief,” Gina closed her eyes, and didn’t open them again. She breathed her last and then became very still.  
***  
Scott was able to take the Alphas under his wing, but as they were too dangerous to be kept in town with their families, he decided that the best option for them was being sent to the British Institute for Lycanthropic Persons. The Institute of course was all for it, desiring greatly to be able to research the phenomenon of their natural Alpha tendencies, and also desiring to undo what it was Deucalion had done to manipulate them. To teach an Alpha to be responsible would mean a bright future for all of them, but it would take hard work, dedication, patience and tolerance. Derek nor Isaac nor Cora were very confident they would pull through, but Scott remained optimistic.  
Stiles and Lydia were able to keep Officer Stilinski’s job intact, and without the Alpha brood running around were also able to secure the police’s reputation. Allison and her father had quite a time recovering their ammunition from the police, but they were able to restock their shelves, as well as keep some at the Animal Clinic. Just in case.  
Isaac came to the Frae grave and left flowers besides the others that students from school had come to leave in respect. He left one other thing; her Stratego box with every piece, army man and stale gummy bear, and there was a note on the box that read;  
 _To the strongest person I know. Knock them dead up there. Well...deader. Tell Sun Tzu that he really knew his stuff. He’d probably like that. Especially when you tell him how well it worked against werewolves. He might even be proud, if not a little weirded out. I’ll always miss you, you know.  
-Your numbskull._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additionally, Peter gets away. I knew ahead of time that he'd show up in 3B, so I couldn't just kill him. He slinks away after the Alphas are taken down where he disappears off the radar. I figured, since he stars in the first episode of 3B, that in trying to stay hidden he had gotten himself *and Derek* locked up in that...mess (not to spoil anything).
> 
> I wasn't able to finish it before seeing 3B, which is too bad, but I was able to finish it. I hope there aren't any glaring issues that I haven't addressed. It was fun writing this, I might write another for 3B, but we'll see. I have yet to pass judgment on Malia's whole...deal...and Kira too. I hope you guys liked it. Please feel free to leave kudos if you think it's actually deserving, and please PLEASE leave a constructive comment if you feel I've failed you somehow. I know there are things I could have done better; things that I missed. I wrote this late to deliver on my promise to finish, so I'll try to edit it later.
> 
> Thanks for getting this far!


End file.
